The Devil's Playground
by REIDFANATIC
Summary: A brutal attack brings Reid and the team to Las Vegas where, with the help of the CSI team, they must work to save innocent victims.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: See my profile

_Prologue_

"But your Honor," the teenager lamented.

"That's my ruling Mr. Hardwick," the grey haired man with the stern face and the black robe sitting at the front of the room responded as the boy's lawyer tugged him away from any further communication with the judge.

As the lawyers put their files in their briefcases, the clerk called the next case. A man in a charcoal grey suit and a young black woman in jeans, a red tank and a denim jacket approached the tables at the front of the room. "Ms. McDaniels, where's your attorney?" The judge asked.

"Don't got one sir. Din't know I needed one. Thought l's just comin' here to show y'all how I'm better and maybe you'd let me see my li'l girl.

The judge sighed heavily, "Although it's only family court, this is a court of law, Ms. McDaniels. It's customary, and to your benefit, to have legal counsel." He looked toward the back of the room where the litigants of the last case were just leaving. "Mr. Reston," he called out. "You work for legal aid; perhaps you wouldn't mind assisting this young woman."

"Your honor, I would love to, but I'm already late for a case," Dan Reston replied. "My caseload now is huge. We're undermanned down there." The dark haired young man shrugged his shoulders. "You know how it is."

"Yes," Judge Collins replied, "unfortunately I remember." He waved the young lawyer off with his head. The young man quickly slid out the door past his opponent, an older man with grey hair, wearing a light grey suit.

The older man stopped, and turned back into the room. "If it please the court," he said, "I'll represent Ms. McDaniels." He approached the table where the young woman stood.

"I can't afode no lawyer," she told him.

"It's okay," he patted her shoulder. "It's called pro bono, which in Latin means for the good, which also means I do it for free."

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Lou- Anne McDaniels walked along the street, picturing herself in her new clothes. The bag still swung from her fingers. Her lawyer had suggested she wear something other than denim to convince the court of the progress she'd made. He was a really good lawyer, she could tell. She was so lucky that he happened to be in the courtroom when her case was called. She thought she might show him what she'd bought to make sure they were okay. She approached the small café. His secretary had called her and asked her to meet him here to go over the particulars of her case. As she passed the alley a hand reached out and grabbed her roughly, her new bag of clothes fell to the ground as she tried to fend off her attacker. She didn't even hear the gunshot or feel the pain of it coursing through her and, even though her eyes were wide open, they saw nothing. She laid there in the alley, now totally deserted and silent, as the bright red blood drained from her head onto the new clothes she had so proudly bought that day.

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He got out of his car, pushed on the key pad and heard the locks click while the car beeped its good night. He headed for the back door, noting that the light bulb had burnt out. He'd better change that before he did anything or he'd forget, he told himself as he fiddled for his house key in the darkness. The darkness, that concealed the attacker who jumped out from the bushes and grabbed him at the neck, one monstrously large hand squeezing tight, and pushing him against the back of his house while the other wielded a knife. He cried out weakly after the first stab, the weight of the hand on his neck blocking out most of the sound, his hands seemingly unable to pry the hand from his neck or stop the thrusts of the knife. Another feeble squeal followed the second thrust. By the third he was flat on the ground and knew nothing after that.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: See my profile

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_No matter under what the circumstances you leave it, home does not cease to be home. No matter how you lived there – well or poorly _

_Joseph Brodsky_

"It was going so great," Morgan stressed enthusiastically. "Dinner, dancing, slow dancing, I might add, then we're at my place and I'm looking at a home run, hell a grand slam, and I'm this close," he moved his thumb and forefinger mere centimeters apart; "Then the phone rings and it's JJ."

Reid stood on the other side of the elevator yawning at being called in at 2 am, an expression of mock sympathy on his face as he scratched his chin. He crossed his arms in front of him. "I feel for you Morgan, I really do."

"She said we didn't need our go bag, so it must be in the area." Morgan surmised, as the elevator opened on the sixth floor.

Reid's cell rang just as they were about to open the glass doors of the BAU. He looked at the call display, his eyes widening and a look of concern rather than surprise crossed his face.

"What is it?" Morgan asked, noticing the look.

"A 702 area code, it's from Las Vegas, but it's not from Bennington. At this hour, it can't be good. Tell them I'll be right in," he said as he opened his phone, "Dr. Reid."

"_Dr. Reid, this is Dr. Hal Sutton from Summerlin Hospital Medical Center."_ Reid's heart jumped to his throat at the man's words. Surely Bennington would have called him if something was wrong with his mother. _"Dr. Reid,"_ the man said when there was no response.

"Yes," Reid found himself squeaking.

"_I'm sorry to call you at this hour, I know it's the middle of the night there, but we had a beating victim admitted earlier tonight and you are listed as being next of kin."_ The voice over the phone told him.

"A beating… " Had one of the patient's got unexpectedly violent… "Is… is it my mother, Dianna Reid?" Reid held his breath for the response.

"_No,"_ the doctor responded_. "The man is William Reid and you are named as next of kin."_

Reid released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. After a few moments he spoke into the phone. "That's my dad." He told the man. "Is… is he okay?"

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A little blonde haired blue eyed girl's picture appeared on the screen. She looked to be about six, Emily thought as she took her seat. "Where's Reid?"

"He just got a call from Vegas," Morgan told them as he got some coffee. "I don't think that can be good news at this time of night. Missing kid?" He said as he sat down.

"Yes," JJ informed them. "Kimberly Westcott, age six disappeared tonight from her home in McLean. Her father was the last to go to bed about midnight, checked on her before he did and when her mother got up shortly after one to go to the bathroom, she looked in and Kimberly was gone. The Westcotts looked around the house because Kimberly has been known to sleep walk, but she wasn't there. The alarm was still on so the only way she could have gotten out was through one of the windows. She has left the house before while sleeping, that's the main reason they got the alarm. So, Mr. and Mrs. Westcott went out and scoured the area but could find no sign of her. They called the police and the police did a much wider grid search, but have come up empty so they called us."

"Do they suspect foul play?" Rossi asked.

"I don't know if they know what to think." Hotch said. "But the grid search covered an area far larger than a six year old would be able to cover in that amount of time."

"Has anyone looked into the parents?" Emily asked.

"They're doing that now," JJ replied.

"Garcia," Hotch said.

"On it sir," Garcia rose from her seat and headed for her computers that would tell her everything there was to know about the Westcotts. She passed Reid in the hallway, still talking on the phone.

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"_Your father sustained some rather serious injuries,"_ Dr. Sutton explained. _"He was almost strangled and he has five stab wounds some involving major organs. He made it through surgery okay but there are some decisions that have to be made."_

"Decisions," Reid said.

"_Dr. Reid, your father is in critical condition. He's in a coma. Due to the pressure on his trachea we had had to intubate with a tracheostomy. He also has fractures to numerous ribs and his lung was one of the organs damaged in the attack. He's hemorrhaged into both the thoracic and abdominal cavities and has lost a great deal of blood. It was fortunate that a neighbor came out to empty his garbage at the moment he did and the attacker ran away or I would be informing you of his death. We have a ventilator inflating his collapsed lung and he is getting blood transfusions. His spleen was removed and one of his kidneys was also badly damaged. We repaired it as best we could. Luckily, one can survive without a spleen and with only one kidney." _He paused for a moment. _"The prognosis, I'm sad to say, is uncertain and, in the absence of a living will, we have no idea as to his wishes regarding a situation such as he is in now should his condition remain unchanged. That is the decision you, as next of kin, need to make. He has a lawyer friend who has power of attorney over legal and work related affairs, but he has no say in medical matters."_

"Okay, thank you Dr. Sutton, I'll get back to you as soon as I can." Reid closed his phone and headed into the BAU.

"We should figure out who knows that she sleepwalks," Emily was saying when Reid walked into the room and saw the picture of the little girl on the screen.

"Missing kid," he said as he sat down and perused the file. "Emily's right, we need to know who else knows she sleepwalks. I mean that gave the unsub about an hour's head start while the parents searched the neighborhood, presuming she'd been somnambulating."

"I love it when you use the big words," Emily said.

"Everything okay Reid?" Morgan asked.

"My dad… my dad was badly beaten last night and he's in a coma. I'm listed as next of kin and they want me to make decisions if it should come to that because he doesn't have a living will."

"Then what are you doing here?" Hotch removed the file from in front of him. "Go, get to Vegas and do what needs doing for your dad."

"I don't know what to do. I don't know what he'd want." Reid admitted.

"You're not going to figure that out sitting here." Rossi opined. "Go, do what you have to. Say," he stressed the word, "what you have to say."

"But what about…" Reid's hand gestured to the child on the screen

"We've managed to get through cases without you before." Morgan said with a smile before his face became serious. "Rossi and Hotch are right, get outta here, and if something happens and your mom has to find out, better she find out from you."

Hotch picked up his cell while Reid just nodded as he grabbed his messenger bag and headed for the door, only to be met by JJ. She made a move to give him a hug but he brusquely waved her off. She did her best not to look offended and said only, "Take care of yourself and your dad. Don't worry about us, we've got this."

"Garcia's getting you booked on a flight and a hotel room." Hotch said as he closed his cell. "Take all the time you need."

Reid headed down the stairs and through the bullpen. He hated going home.


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: See my profile

A/N: Thanks to all those who have taken the time to read and review.

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Reid opened his eyes when he heard the steward announcing that everyone should fasten their seatbelts in preparation for landing in Las Vegas. He rubbed his eyes, still a little groggy from sleep. He'd slept the last time he'd come here too. But this time, nothing was a dream. His father was severely injured and he had to make life and death decisions regarding that. He could hear some of the revelers further back in the plane, glad to have finally reached 'sin city' where they could let go of their ordinary personas and be whatever they wanted, behave however they wanted, because what happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas.

If only that were true, he told himself as he dutifully put his seat in its upright position. What happened to him in Las Vegas, what he'd endured here, had followed him everywhere he went, and would continue for the rest of his life. That was the thing these tourists forgot in all the excitement of the gambling and the flashy shows; that there was a life in Las Vegas. People actually lived there, went to school, worked, raised children or, in his case, didn't raise children. He felt the plane make its gradual descent until the wheels hitting the ground told him they'd landed. However he felt about it, he was home.

Reid's cell rang just as he got into the airport after deplaning. He looked at the call display. Of course, Garcia would know the moment they landed, "Hey Garcia."

"Hey Reid, how you holding up sweetcheeks?"

"I'm fine, I just got off the plane but I'm sure you knew that."

"Yeah, you know your goddess knows everything. I reserved you a rental car so you just have to go and pick it up. You're booked at the JW Marriott Resort and Spa, it's the closest hotel to the hospital," he heard in his cell.

"Thanks Garcia, you're the best," he told her.

She giggled through his phone. "There you go again, proving just how smart you are." Reid smiled at her remark. She could always make him smile, make any of them smile. She was the best gift any of them could have in the dark world they faced on a daily basis. "You've got me on speed dial. You know I'm here if you need anything. My love is strong. Now go see about your dad."

"Garcia, how are they doing on the case? Have they made any progress in finding Kimberly?"

"Oh no you don't, we are not going there. You go see to your dad. That's what you do now. You leave Kimberly to us. That's an order from your goddess," she said sternly.

"Okay, but if I can do anything, call me," he said.

"Good bye sweetcheeks," he heard before the call on the other end ended abruptly.

The airport concourse wasn't too busy, but it was five in the morning so that made sense. Okay, he said to himself, rental car, no he reorganized his thoughts; he needed to get things in order of importance; coffee first, then the rental car.

Feeling a little rejuvenated after his caffeine fix, he'd driven the twelve miles to the Summerlin Hospital Medical Centre. The place was relatively quiet, but then it was six in the morning. He made his way, as directed by the woman at the front desk, to the ICU and picked up the phone outside as a sign instructed. He gave his name and the patient he wished to see to the voice on the other end, and after a momentary pause, was told someone would let him in shortly. He sat on one of the rather comfortable chairs in the waiting area and in a very few minutes the door opened.

"Dr. Reid?" A woman with short dark hair wearing burgundy colored scrubs inquired.

"Yes," Reid stood and entered the ICU as the woman held the door open.

"I'm Stacy. I've been looking after your dad. There's no real change in his condition," she continued as she led him into the area where patients were cared for. They stopped at the third cubicle.

Reid looked at his dad and all the medical paraphernalia that surrounded him. He knew what everything was and its function, but that didn't make it any less intimidating. Sometimes he thought ignorance might be better. As many as eight IVs ran into his two arms, one, he noted by the dark red color, was blood. The endotracheal tube in his mouth and fastened to him with some kind of band and tape was hooked up to a ventilator that made a sound every few seconds as a breath was delivered and his father's chest rose accordingly. A bag hanging at the end of the bed holding clear yellow liquid tinged with red gave evidence to the fact, that although one of his kidneys had been damaged, the other was working well. He noticed tiny accordion type containers, appearing out from underneath his dad's hospital gown.

"Those are hemovacs," Stacy said noting his eyes on the containers, "they just…"

"Drain fluid from the wounds, yeah, I know." Reid replied.

"Of course, I forgot, you're a doctor," the nurse said.

"I'm not a medical doctor," Reid told her. "I just read a lot."

Okay, Stacy thought, this guy sits around in his spare time and reads about hemovacs. That's not too strange. "You can go in and sit in the chair if you like. Dr. Sutton's not here right now. He won't be in until about eight. I can get Dr. du Plooy if you'd like to talk to a doctor."

"No, that's okay. Dr. Sutton explained everything to me." Reid replied, but he still made no movement toward the bed. "Can he hear? Do you know if he can hear? Sometimes they say coma patients can hear."

"I don't know. We've had some people come out of comas and say they've heard every word and some come out with no memory of the time they were in the coma. I always talk to my patients on the assumption that they can hear me. So if you want to talk to your dad, it's fine. I think it's better to assume that they can, than that they can't."

Reid moved closer to the figure in the bed and sat in the chair, placing his messenger bag on the floor beside him. Being closer he could now see his father's face more clearly, the bruising and swelling, the finger marks at his neck. He noted cuts on his arms and hands. Defensive wounds, his dad had tried to fight off his attacker. Had they taken fingernail scrapings, he wondered. His father hadn't been a subject of opportunity for this attacker, not the victim of a random mugging or carjacking. He'd been attacked in his own back yard. Someone specifically had wanted William Reid dead. The question was why?

"H…hi dad," he said quietly.


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: See my profile

A/N: Have a great Labor Day! Thanks to all who read and reviewed.

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Reid looked up when he saw Stacy motioning two men carrying cases to his father's cubicle. "Mr. Reid," the first man said, "I'm Nick Stokes from the Las Vegas crime lab. This is Greg Sanders." He motioned to his partner. "We're here to get pictures of your dad's injuries and collect some samples we weren't able to collect last evening due to your dad's urgent need of medical attention."

Reid nodded and moved out of the way to sit on the window ledge while CSI Stokes took pictures of the wounds. Stacy helped move the sheets so they could get shots of William's entire body. "His clothes are in a paper bag in the closet," Stacy said, "and I've got his fingernail scrapings at the desk." She held her patient over so Nick could get shots of his back as well while Greg took possession of the paper bag, secured with red evidence tape, and went in search of the scrapings.

"Were you on the scene last night?" Reid asked the CSI.

"Yes, I was."

"Can you tell me about it?" Reid inquired.

"What do you mean by tell you about it?" Nick asked.

"What did you see? What were your impressions?" Reid clarified.

These weren't questions that most family members asked. "It appeared that your father was attacked on his way from his car to his back door. Like I said, we didn't get to examine his body very much at the scene due to his immediate need of medical attention. From what the neighbor said there was only one assailant who ran away when he heard him approach. It was dark, so he didn't get a good look at the guy."

"Was he robbed? Reid asked, "Watch or wallet, taken?

"No, he still had both on him," Greg said.

"Tell me, did the unsub make off with his briefcase?" Reid said.

"Unsub," Nick and Greg echoed as one.

"Unknown subject, the attacker, the perp," Reid elucidated.

"Are you some kind of cop?" Greg asked.

Reid reached into his jacket pocket, "Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI's behavioral analysis unit," he said as he flashed his badge.

A look passed between Greg and Nick, a fed. "Yes," Nick said, "the perp took your dad's briefcase; at least we didn't find it on him. We're done here. Captain Jim Brass is handling your dad's case. He should be in in a little while to talk to you."

"Thank you," Reid said as the men turned to go.

"The BAU," Greg whispered when they got out of earshot. "They don't let just anybody into that club."

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"Spencer," Reid heard a voice behind him. He turned to see a man about his dad's age in a navy pinstripe, blue shirt with a navy and burgundy striped tie. "May I call you Spencer?"

"I'm sorry," Reid said. "I'm at a disadvantage here."

"Ralph Kennedy," the man, with a gregarious air about him, held out his hand and Reid shook it. "I'm a colleague and a good friend of Will's." He shook his head as he looked at the man in the bed. "I have power of attorney over most of his affairs, but not medical issues."

"Do you know anyone who'd want to do this to my dad?" Reid asked.

"Will leads a very solitary life. I can't imagine him pissing anyone off, really. He works most of his life away and the rest of the time he goes to movies and reads."

Reid almost laughed, like father like son. "Could it be someone from a case he was handling?"

"Will didn't do criminal law, mostly contract work, the odd divorce, that kind of thing. I think yesterday he was handling some kind of vandalism beef for the guy who owns the store where he gets supplies for Cornelius."

"Cornelius," Reid shook his head.

"Will's cat," Kennedy explained. "That reminds me, I need to talk to Jim Brass about releasing your dad's house as a crime scene. Someone needs to get into the house and feed Cornelius."

How many times had he gone through a victim's house looking for answers as to why they were targeted? He knew it was common practice and a good way to get information. One's home said a lot about him, but somehow the whole procedure seemed different when it was someone close to you or that you knew. He almost chuckled. Now the LVPD likely knew more about his father than he did.

"You know Detective Brass?" Reid asked.

"Captain Brass actually, and yes, I've been involved with him a couple of times. He's very good at what he does. Your father's case is in good hands." He pulled his wallet out and removed a card. "I really must get to the office. Here's my card. If you need anything or have any questions, just call me."

Reid pulled out his own wallet and gave Kennedy one of his cards. "My cell's on there if you need to reach me and I'm not here."

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Catherine Willows walked in as Sara Sidle was looking at the computer screen, "Anything?" she asked.

"She's in the system," Sara replied, "A few arrests, prostitution and heroin possession."

"I just came from Doc Robbins," Catherine said, "apparently, Henry didn't get anything on her tox screen and nothing in her hair either so she's been clean for a while now. She did manage to scratch her attacker but the DNA's not in the system."

"We did find something in the pocket of her jeans, a business card for some lawyer named William Reid. I sent it to Hodges."

"Did you say William Reid?" Greg said as he was walking by the room.

"Yeah," Sara said," you know him?"

"Nick and I just came from processing him in Summerlin. He was attacked last night."

The threesome looked back and forth amongst themselves. Catherine turned to leave the room. "I'll call Jim."

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Reid turned his head at the sound of the man's voice calling his name. "I'm Captain Jim Brass of the LVPD. I'd like to ask some questions about your father."

Jim Brass was a good six inches shorter than he was, Reid noted, his dark hair receding. He took the man to be about sixty.

"I don't know how much help I can be to you Captain Brass. I don't know a lot about my father. He left my mother and me when I was ten and I hadn't seen him until a brief encounter a few years ago. We've been estranged so…"

A look of sadness crossed Captain Brass' face. "I know how that can be," he said.

Reid examined the man's expression and believed it wasn't just something the man was saying. He believed it to be true. "They called me. There was no one to make medical decisions, so here I am with absolutely no idea what his wishes are."

Jim Brass didn't know how he could consider the man lying in the bed lucky. He'd been brutally attacked and the outcome was still uncertain. Yet, his son was here. The son who he'd abandoned was here. He could tell the young man had come out of a strong sense of duty and that that was important to him. He only wished that, if he were in William Reid's position that Ellie would come, but he knew that wasn't true. Hell, he had been in William Reid's position and Ellie had been more concerned with his pension than whether he lived or died. This man was different. He would do what was best for his father. "So, you have no idea what might have led to the attack on your father?"

Before Reid could answer, a voice behind Brass said, "I think I might have a theory on that."


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Brass turned at the sound of the voice to see a middle aged woman with shoulder length blonde hair, and quite beautiful Reid concluded. "Catherine," Brass looked surprised.

"I tried your cell Jim, but it was turned off. I knew you must be at the hospital."

Brass turned back to Reid, "This is Catherine Willows from the crime lab," he gestured toward her, "Catherine, Mr. Reid's son, Spencer."

She had the type of beauty you'd expect to see in a Las Vegas chorus line, rather than on a woman with a badge who studied the, more often than not, grizzly remnants of crimes for a living. Her blue eyes were direct and Reid had no doubt that very little surprised this woman. Catherine stepped forward and offered her hand, "Greg tells me you're an FBI agent."

Now this was something Reid usually chose to keep to himself when meeting people, unless it were in the line of duty or absolutely necessary. He liked to study people's reactions when they found out. It gave him a bit of a read on them. He hadn't missed the look that had passed between Stokes and Sanders earlier that had said, "A fed, this guy could be a pain in the ass." Now he watched Brass after the revelation. His eyes opened wide for a moment in surprise, then narrowed as he appeared to be sizing him up and finally the captain gave him a slight smirk that said, "Touché."

"You said something about a theory," Reid said.

Catherine was silent for a moment, not sure whether laying things out for this man was good or not. Something told her it was better if he knew. Then he wouldn't be on their asses for information and he'd know they were on the job. "Lou, Sara and I caught what appeared to be a mugging gone bad in an alley last night; black woman, watch and wallet gone, shot in the head with a .22. Bobby hasn't been able to match it to anything in the system."

"Why do you think it's connected to my dad?"

"Because she had William Reid's business card in her pocket," Catherine stated.

"Who was she?" Brass asked.

"Prints identified her as Lou-Anne McDaniels. She'd been arrested in the past for prostitution and heroin possession. But she was clean as a whistle now and has been for at least the last few months. Do you know anything about your dad's dealings with this woman?"

"No," Reid shook his head. "As I was telling Captain Brass, my father and I have been estranged for years. I know nothing about his life." Reid took a moment and glanced over at his father, wondering if he heard them. He supposed he was hoping to see that the sound of Lou-Anne McDaniels' name registered with him and his heart rate would increase, or he'd move a finger… something to let him know that there was activity going on in there.

"Maybe if we call his law firm," Brass suggested, "they can tell us if she was a client of his and what it was about."

"Sara tried," Catherine informed them, "but they refused to confirm or deny that she was a client, citing privilege."

"Great, okay, well let's see if we can approach this from some other angle." The pair turned from Reid. "We'll let you know if we come up with anything."

Yeah, Reid thought, you do that. "I have to leave for a few minutes," he told Pamela, William's day nurse after Brass and Willows had left. "I'll be back shortly to talk with Dr. Sutton."

Pamela nodded as he headed for the ICU exit. He took the elevator to the main floor and out the front door to some benches. He pulled his phone out, sat and hit speed dial.

"Sweetcheeks," Garcia said excitedly, "is everything okay?"

"There's no change Garcia, but I need you to do something for me."

"Anything, you know that."

"Cross reference my dad and a woman named Lou-Anne McDaniels." He waited as he heard Garcia's fingers on the keys.

"She was arrested numerous times for prostitution and heroin possession," she told him.

"Yeah, I know that. Was my dad her lawyer on any court appearances?"

"No nothing there, legal aid. She had a court appearance yesterday in family court. She was petitioning to get to see her daughter who'd been removed from her care by DCFS."

"Was my dad involved?"

"No, sor… just a minute, yes; her appearance yesterday was continued because she didn't have a lawyer, but someone stepped up pro bono and William Reid has been designated attorney of record and asked for a continuance to familiarize himself with the case. The court gave him a week."

As the goddess herself would say, Reid thought, yahtzee! "To give Lou Anne McDaniels visitation someone would have to look into the daughter's living conditions now and how McDaniels would fit in with it. And I'll bet someone didn't want anyone looking into the daughter. With McDaniels and my dad both out of the way, no one likely would. Do we know where the dau…?"

"Given into the care of Wes and Tina Dinsdale of 1459 Parker Boulevard; her name is Rachael and she's eight years old."

"Thanks Garcia, you're the greatest.

"Don't you ever forget it. Reid, take care of yourself and your dad, okay."

"I will Garcia, thanks again." He closed his phone and wondered what reception he'd get from Captain Brass and the crime lab people when he gave them this. He could imagine them thinking here's the fed horning in on our case.

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"Anything on William Reid's computer?" Nick asked Archie.

"Well, he's got lots of stuff on his computer, but nothing regarding the McDaniels woman and nothing, as far as I can see, that would make somebody attempt to murder him," Archie said as Jim and Catherine entered the lab. "Most of his stuff is about his son."

"Agent Reid told us he and his father were estranged," Catherine said, doubt entering her voice.

"They may have been estranged," Archie remarked. "But the guy kept up on everything the kid did. You do realize that the son is some kind of wunderkind. He got his first doctorate at sixteen with a thesis entitled 'Identifying non-obvious relationship factors using cluster weighted modeling and geographic regression'."

"I have absolutely no idea what that even means," Sara said.

"He's got three doctorates, joined the FBI at 22, has been published in many scientific and criminal publications and has done some pretty heroic things like going into a train unarmed to face a psychopath holding a bunch of hostages with two guns."

"He looks so skinny and harmless," Greg said.

"So do you," Sara laughed. "I guess he's got a pair. I gotta meet this guy." She said as Nick's cell rang.

He pulled it from his pocket and spoke. "You just got your chance. He's at the front desk."


	6. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Reid looked down the hallway, expecting one of the CSIs he'd met or Captain Brass; he'd told the receptionist it didn't matter who he spoke to. But, now they came down the hallway like a posse out for blood. Brass and Willows led the way followed by Stokes, Sanders and a pretty dark haired woman he'd yet to meet, the aforementioned Sara, he presumed. Willows was the one to speak.

"Agent Reid?" She said, noting he was no longer the laid back son at the hospital, but the FBI agent complete with his sidearm, a revolver. Who carried a revolver?

"Lou-Anne McDaniels had an appearance in family court yesterday. She wanted to get visitation rights with her daughter who was removed from her care by DCFS." Reid began. "She didn't have a lawyer and my dad happened to be in the courtroom at the time and stepped up offering his services to Miss McDaniels pro bono. He asked for a continuance to give him time to familiarize himself with the case. The judge gave him a week. Then last night McDaniels is murdered and my father barely escaped with his life. I think that someone didn't want anyone digging into Miss McDaniels' daughter." He finished, with a squeak at the end of his speech as he finally took a breath.

"How did you find out all this so fast?" Brass asked.

"I have my ways," Reid said. He handed Brass a piece of paper. "Her name is Rachael McDaniels, eight years old and she is fostered by Wes and Tina Dinsdale; the address is on the paper."

"Did you say Rachael McDaniels?" The receptionist asked.

"Yeah, Judith, why?" Sara replied.

"An alert just came across my screen a few moments ago about a missing child, assumed a runaway and her name is Rachael McDaniels."

Reid looked back at the CSIs, "How convenient," he mused.

"Amber Alert in effect?" Brass asked. The receptionist nodded in the affirmative. "Judith, find out who's caught the case and I'll get in contact with them. We need to get over there and talk to these people."

"I'm coming with you, I just need to get my case," Willows said as she turned to leave.

Sara hadn't said much and they hadn't been formally introduced, but she had been studying the man. "You look skeptical," she said.

"Either she's already been taken out of the city and the Amber Alert is too late, or she's already dead and disposed of somewhere in the desert where she's not likely to be found. I don't think these people would put out an Amber Alert when there's the possibility she might be found. I think it's pretty clear that they don't want anybody talking to her so that's why they tried to take care of the problem by eliminating Miss McDaniels and my dad. When they didn't succeed in killing my dad, they had to go to plan B which would be to get rid of the child." He paused for a moment. "I think they'll have taken every precaution so she won't be found and are just covering their tracks with the runaway story. I mean it's believable. Foster kids run away all the time."

The group seemed to consider this for a moment. "Why wouldn't they just allow her to be found and say she died of misadventure, the elements, something? Greg asked.

"Because they don't want to risk an autopsy which will reveal what actually happened to her," Catherine answered. "I think you're right Agent Reid."

"The fact that she's gone missing will give us probable cause to search the house," Brass noted. "Maybe we can find some evidence of what's been going on."

Reid turned, "I'm going to head back to the hospital. I need to speak to my dad's doctor. I still have no idea what to tell him."

For a moment, the CSI team forgot that this was an FBI agent; a fed they felt was trying to stick his nose into their case. He was the son of a victim. Nick stepped forward. "I hope your dad's okay, man."

"For what it's worth," Catherine put a hand on his arm, "I'm sure you'll do the right thing."

Reid nodded, "Good luck with your case."

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Reid watched his father's chest move in and out according to the settings on the ventilator. He watched the blips on the screen when his father's heart beat. The cuff around his arm gave a perpetual reading of his blood pressure. The bags of fluid hanging from IV poles were being pumped into his body and the bag at the foot of the bed was taking the remains away. It was what was happening in between that was of utmost concern to him.

Did his father want to live like this? He knew he certainly wouldn't. To him there was no life without his mind. But then again, his father's mind could be completely intact, literally screaming at him to let him out. He had no way of knowing. How long did one wait for change, a week, a month, a year? Coma patients had been known to wake up after a year and be perfectly fine. Look at Brian Matloff, he told himself; once he regained his memory he was fine. Who was he to say it wouldn't be like that with his father.

He could have gone to his mother he supposed. They may have discussed something like that at one time, if she could remember, that was; and he really didn't want to upset her if there wasn't much to be gained from the conversation. He'd have to get over and see his mother. He'd have to think of some good reason for being there. "Dr. Reid," Pamela's voice brought him from his thoughts. "Dr. Sutton will see you now."

Reid followed the woman to the doctor's office. Dr. Sutton, Reid considered, was in his fifties, a couple of inches shorter than he was and completely bald with an egg shaped head that reminded him of the description of Hercule Poirot in the Agatha Christie novels he'd read as a child. Now that guy would have been a great profiler he thought. Although Dr. Sutton had a mustache, it was not the style of Ms. Christie's sleuth and was combined with a full grey beard. "Dr. Reid, please sit," the doctor said after they'd been introduced, offering Reid one of the chairs, upholstered in a geometric fabric, in front of his desk. The doctor, in blue scrubs topped with a white lab coat took a seat in the leather chair behind the desk while Reid noticed the many books that filled the bookshelf on one wall and the diplomas from many various areas of study on two others. The final wall had a copy of da Vinci's Vitruvian man. "Now let's get down to discussing your father's condition."

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"That was the cleanest kid's room I've ever seen," Catherine said as they left the Dinsdale residence. "It was almost sanitized." She hefted her case back into the vehicle and looked over the hood of the SUV at Brass. "You and I both had eight year old daughters Jim and their rooms never looked like that. I couldn't even find any prints. What woman with a missing kid takes time to dust?"

"There's more to this than meets the eye," Jim agreed as he climbed into the driver's seat. "I think Dr. Reid was right."

"So where do we go from here?" Catherine asked. "The other kids in the house didn't seem to think anything was wrong and I didn't get a vibe from the Dinsdales."

"Maybe we should go talk to the good doctor."


	7. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Reid looked up from his thoughts to see Nick Stokes standing there. "I thought I might find you here," the man said. He looked at William Reid. Nothing appeared to have changed. "How did the talk with your dad's doctor go?"

"We discussed the prognosis, the options. Everything is staying the same for now and they're going to start him on parenteral nutrition until we see if his damaged organs can heal and function. That'll take a while. I told him we'd discuss it further then." Reid looked the CSI up and down, "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Yeah, we're calling it a day… night… whatever. We're meeting at this diner we often go to for breakfast after shift," he looked at his watch. "Well today, it's more like lunch, but I thought you'd like to join us. My bet is you haven't eaten."

"I had a bag of chips from the vending machine."

"Come on, you're not doing any good here. You need a break," Nick said and Reid stood and followed the man out of the ICU.

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The long table at the back of the diner was almost full when Nick and Reid joined the others. "Wow," Reid remarked when he saw the large group of people. "I had no idea there'd be so many of you."

Archie's revelations from William Reid's computer had sparked interest in the young FBI agent and it appeared no one had wanted to be left out. "It's not often we have an FBI profiler in our midst, so we wanted to take advantage of it," said the dark haired woman he'd seen in the office.

Reid noted the man next to her sneer, but focused on Nick's voice. "I'm just going to go through everyone really quickly. You already know Greg, Catherine and Jim. Next to Jim sat the dark haired woman who'd just spoken. "This is Sara Sidle, David Hodges," he motioned to a man who gave him a slight sneer; "he handles trace, David Phillips, with the coroner, Bobby Dawson, ballistics, Archie Johnson, computer analyst, and Henry Anderson, DNA."

"It's nice to meet you all," Reid said as he and Nick sat down in the two remaining seats while the waitress took their orders.

"So, you come from here?" Sara asked as the waitress filled their cups with coffee and Reid reached for the sugar.

"Born and raised," Reid replied. "Well, I left at thirteen when I went to CalTech. I don't get back here too often." Reid didn't like the turn this conversation was taking. "So, you must work with Dr. Raymond Langston."

"Yes, Ray's part of our team, but he's away at a seminar right now. Do you know him?"

"No, I read his book, an excellent read. You must have worked with Dr. Grissom as well." He noted Sara's lips turn up slightly at the edges at the mention of the name. What had he said, he wondered?

"Yes, we worked with Gil for years," Catherine said and Reid noted a group joke around the table.

"Did I say something wrong?" He asked.

Nick leaned over, "Sara's married to Gil."

"Oh, oh I see. Well, I was just going to say that I'd attended some of his lectures at UNLV. Entomology is a fascinating subject."

"Somehow I bet there're not many subjects you don't find fascinating," Catherine interjected.

"How did it go at the Dinsdales?" Reid asked as the waitress began bringing their meals.

"We got nothing," Jim said. "The Dinsdales weren't very forthcoming but nothing we could actually prove was a lie. The kid's room was literally sanitized."

"Any sign of bedwetting? That's common when a child's being molested and not so easy to just wash away."

"No, I took the sheets off and examined the mattress, nothing," Catherine replied.

"Did you turn it over? The Dinsdales might have turned it to hide the stain." He took a sip of his coffee. "I doubt that whatever is going on is happening in the house. It will be somewhere more secluded, somewhere you won't hear the children. Did you know that upon leaving the foster care system as many as 75 percent of all children have experienced some sexual abuse. A study at Johns Hopkins University discovered that sexual abuse is four times as high in the foster care system than in general population, probably because the foster care system is so large and the need for foster parents is so great, that they don't get the proper screening and sometimes little to no supervision from the social services departments that things like this, if this is what we have here and it's my opinion that we do, happen every day." He had seemed to talk faster the more he said and finally he squeaked when he stopped for a breath and looked at the people around the table, mouths open. "Sorry, I tend to get carried away sometimes. My teammates usually shut me down."

"Thanks doc, those are some great thoughts to try to go to sleep on," Jim remarked as, he too, sipped his coffee. "So what's our next move?"

"Let me get this straight, are you inviting me in?"

Jim looked around the table, as if for a vote. Everyone seemed agreeable except for Hodges. "Well, I discovered something," the man said arrogantly.

"Here we go, Hodges to the rescue," Bobby laughed sarcastically.

"What did you find," Catherine asked.

"I analyzed the samples of dirt from the footprint at the Reid crime scene. There was a mixture of sands. One had a quartz/feldspar ratio that is consistent with sand found around here. This area is a mixture of feldspar and quartz whereas Arizona is mostly feldspar rich and California is mostly quartz rich."

Although Reid seemed very interested in what Hodges had to say, Henry was less accommodating. "Get on with it would you."

"Okay," Hodges continued. "The boots of the guy that attacked Mr. Reid had sand from here and sand that's quartz rich from the Mojave Desert area of California, particularly around the Kelso sand dunes."

"Do you mean these people may be taking this child, and possibly other children, to somewhere in California? We have no jurisdiction to go searching there," Sara remarked.

"If that's the case," Reid said, "forget about inviting me in. You don't have to. You may not have jurisdiction across the state line but I do.

"I think the next move is for you all to go home and get some sleep and I'll call my team. If they're through with the case they were working on before I left, they can be here by the time you wake up."

"Okay then," Nick said as he and the rest of the group attacked their food.


	8. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: See my profile

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"Hey Reid," Garcia said when she answered her phone. "Is everything okay with your dad?"

"Well, there's not really any change. It's a wait and see kind of thing. I wanted to talk to Hotch but I didn't want to call if they were still on Kimberly's case. How's that going?"

"She's okay; she's back home with her parents. It was the guidance counselor at her school, if you can believe it," the perky blond told him. "I guess it was in Kimberly's record at school that she sleep walked and the counselor had been watching her for some time. So they've got the skeezy perv and Kimberly's back home. She'll probably be afraid to sleep again."

Yes, he knew what that was like didn't he; not wanting to go to sleep because you were afraid of the dream world that awaited you, one you had no control over. The only control you had was to stay awake, Reid thought. "Okay then, I'll call Hotch, thanks Garcia."

Hotch picked up his cell on the second ring. "How's it going there Reid?" He said by way of greeting.

"Uh, hi Hotch, my dad's pretty much holding his own. It's just a waiting game now."

"Stay out there as long as you need to Reid."

"Yeah, about that, I think the team is needed out here. Captain Jim Brass is sending a request for the BAU, although I don't think he needs it." Reid went on to explain at warp speed the situation of Lou-Anne McDaniels, her death, the connection to William Reid, the disappearance of Rachael McDaniels, his communication with Captain Brass and the CSIs and the sand that indicated this might be a situation that extended over state lines without allowing Hotch to get a word in, even though the unit chief had tried several times.

"Reid!" Hotch finally yelled into the phone.

"Yeah Hotch," he replied.

"Why does Captain Brass think he needs our help?"

"He's got a murder, an attempted murder and a missing child, all connected. He doesn't have any answers. His team went home to get some rest. I told him you guys would be here by the time they got up."

"You told him what?" Hotch's voice rose beyond its normal degree of control. "We haven't even decided if we'll take the case yet."

"If," it was Reid's turn to yell into the phone.

"Don't take that tone with me Reid." Hotch's tone had reached the control zone again, dangerously controlled, as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "We'll look at the file, decide and, if we agree to take the case, I'll let you know when we're in the air. Have a computer on hand and be ready to present your case."

The unit chief walked down the hallway, still unsure of what to do. This case was personal to Reid. Could he justify using the resources of the FBI to indulge in what might turn out to be a personal vendetta. "You look like a guy with a lot on his mind." Rossi said as he exited his office.

"We need to gather the team," was Hotch's reply.

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"So Reid thinks these cases are connected?" Morgan asked from his seat on the jet.

"They certainly look like they could be," Prentiss said as she leafed through her copy of the file Captain Brass had sent. "I mean you have the McDaniels woman and then Reid's dad is attacked and their only connection is that they want to fight for her to have visitation with her daughter, who suddenly runs away."

"Someone obviously did not want anyone getting to that girl." JJ agreed.

Hotch leaned over and pushed a button on the computer, "You there Reid?"

"Yeah Hotch, I'm right here," the thin profiler came into view.

"He looks like hell," Rossi remarked, noting the slumped shoulders and red eyes.

"Are you all right Reid?" JJ asked.

"Yeah, I just haven't slept at all." He stepped up to the white board he'd put together. "This is Lou-Anne McDaniels, 26." He pointed his pen at the picture of a young black woman. "She showed up in family court yesterday with no legal counsel. She was trying to get visitation with her daughter who'd been removed from her care when she was a prostitute and using heroin. My d… William Reid happened to be leaving the courtroom at the time and offered to help her pro bono. As far as I know, they'd never met before. Last evening Miss McDaniels was killed in an alley on her way home from getting some new clothes, likely for court. The bag with the new clothes was found beside her body. She was killed with a .22 and the police initially treated it as a mugging."

"Later that night my d…" He paused and pointed to the picture, "William Reid was attacked outside his residence by an assailant with a knife. He tried to choke m… the victim; you can see the hand print on the photo here." He pointed to one of the photos he'd tacked up on the white board. The picture showed William Reid in a bed with an endotracheal tube in his mouth and the ventilator tubing attached. The blue hand mark was plainly visible. "He was then stabbed numerous times." He pointed to the other pictures Nick had taken that morning. "He sustained injury to one of his lungs, one of his kidneys and his spleen was removed. He's now in a comatose state." He turned his back to the camera momentarily and cleared his throat.

"The police had no idea these cases were related until they found one of … William Reid's business cards in Miss McDaniels jeans pocket. His office wouldn't say if Miss McDaniels was a client or not so I had Garcia look at the records. Although there's no permanent case file written up, since the case was continued so Miss McDaniel's attorney could familiarize himself with the details, Garcia was able to glean what happened by hacking in and reading the notation the clerk had made on her computer." He paused again momentarily. "I gave the information to Captain Brass and just at the same time an alert came out that Rachael McDaniels," he pointed to the picture of an eight year old girl, her black hair pulled up in pigtails, "had conveniently run away. I think someone didn't want authorities anywhere near that little girl."

"Captain Brass and CSI Willows went to the home of Wes and Tina Dinsdale, Rachael's foster parents, and told me they were not very forthcoming during questioning. CSI Willows went over the girl's room and she described it as being like it had been sanitized, not even a print to be found."

"When m…Miss McDaniels' attorney was attacked the assailant left a footprint on the sidewalk leading to the back door. CSI Hodges discovered two distinct types of sand from the tread. One with a quartz/feldspar ratio, consistent with the Las Vegas area and another sand, more quartz rich, found in the southeastern part of the California portion of the Mojave Desert, specifically the Kelso dunes near what, if I'm right and what I think is happening is happening," he tapped his pen on a map he'd tacked on the board and an area of southeastern California he'd circled in red, "is aptly named… the Devil's Playground."


	9. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Morgan put the SUV in park in the lot at 2974 Westfall and the team trooped into the building. The receptionist directed them to the conference room that had been set up for them. "Pretteeee boy," Morgan said as he entered the room, seeing Reid at the coffee pot, "can you not stay out of trouble for five minutes?"

"Hi guys," Reid said as he turned to meet them.

"You look terrific," Rossi said sarcastically as he took in Reid's rather disheveled appearance coupled with his blood shot eyes that he was managing to keep open by sheer will.

"Thanks," he said politely, the sarcasm seemingly lost on him. Two men entered the room behind the team. "Guys, this is Captain Jim Brass," Reid gestured to the shorter older man, "and Detective Luis Vartann. They caught the two cases. This is Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner," Reid gestured to Hotch while the men shook hands, "and SSAs Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Jennifer Jareau."

"JJ," JJ said as she shook hands with the men and a blond woman entered the room.

"Head CSI night shift, Catherine Willows," Reid said. "I'll let you guys introduce yourselves."

Jim Brass did his own profiling as the team that had just arrived talked with Catherine and Luis.

The head honcho, Hotchner, seemed to be a stern individual that gave little away and one that did not suffer fools gladly. The women both seemed friendly and approachable. His eyes shifted to the muscle bound black guy in a tee shirt and jeans. The team must obviously rely on him for the heavy lifting, Jim thought. The oldest man seemed more laid back, a sports jacket over jeans; pretty sure of himself and not out to impress anyone. He wondered where Dr. Reid fit into this group.

"Okay," Hotch said when introductions were concluded. "We need to get out and talk to people. Morgan, Prentiss, I want you to go talk to the Dinsdales again, talk to the other foster children. Also talk to the neighbors. Rossi, the coroner, find out about Miss McDaniel's injuries and William Reid's."

"I know all about my dad's," Reid said. "I can fill you in."

"No," Hotch said, abruptly cutting Reid off. "JJ, I want you to talk to someone about William Reid-"

"I can do that," Reid interjected. "I've got a card from Ralph Kennedy; he's a good friend of my dad's and his power of attorney." He pulled the card from his pocket and Hotch took it from him and handed it to JJ.

"Talk to the man JJ; perhaps either Captain Brass or Detective Vartann could accompany you."

They left the room to carry out their assigned tasks while Reid looked strangely at Hotch.

"So what do you want me to do, victimology? I've pretty much done that in my presentation." Reid said.

"I don't want you to do anything. You're too close to this. This is personally motivated on your part and I am taking you off the case."

"Taking me off the case," Reid echoed in disbelief. "But I'm the one who…"

Hotch stepped over and closed the door to the conference room. "You can't be involved in a case where you're personally motivated."

Reid nodded for a moment. "Didn't stop you with Foyet, did it? It didn't stop Emily with Father Silvano. It didn't stop you from letting Morgan take down Billy Flynn. It didn't stop Rossi from heading off to Indianapolis to deal with the Galens' killer. It didn't stop us from going under the radar to catch Garcia's attacker. Yet, suddenly, because it's me, I can't be on the case because you've deemed that it's personally motivated." Reid's voice had risen several octaves from start to finish. "Or is it that you just don't trust me anymore, like when Emily supposedly 'died?'" He made quotation marks with his fingers. "You'd prefer to watch me suffer than trust me, is that it?"

The others could hear the yelling all the way down the hallway. "Are they like that all the time?" Brass asked the group in general.

"No, normally Reid is the easiest person in the world to get along with," Prentiss replied.

"That's how he seemed to us," Catherine told them.

Hotch's eyes had gotten more steely with every word Reid spoke and his glower more pronounced. "If I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be on this team. Now, I'm going to put what you just said down to stress and the fact that you haven't gotten any sleep. Go to your hotel and get some sleep. That's an order."

Reid slammed the mug he'd been drinking coffee from onto the table so hard the brown liquid splashed over the edges onto the table, picked up his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Fine," he said before storming out of the room and down the hallway past his own teammates and the LVPD personnel who seemed glued to their spots in shock.

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Hotch was staring at the pictures on the board when a voice interrupted him. "He was right, you know." Rossi said as he leant against the door jamb.

"What do you mean?"

"Reid, what he said about all of us working on cases where we had personal motives. We all did it, just the way he said."

"So you heard all that?" He turned and looked at Rossi.

"You know how Reid can get when he's angry," Dave replied.

"Yes, well, Reid had his personal motivation with the Riley Jenkins thing." Hotch reminded him.

"No, no he didn't. He said he was staying behind to visit with his mother. He never asked for the team's help. Morgan was the one that knew something was up with him and asked if he and I could stay. Reid never asked us to be there. That's on us, not him."

"You think so," Hotch said as Rossi sauntered into the room.

"You really want to know what I think?" Dave said.

Hotch's eyebrows lifted and his lips turned slightly at the edges. "Do I have a choice?"

"Morgan's told me about when Reid first came to the BAU, how awkward he was around people, babbling way more than he does now. He was a kid, 22 years old and, as I understand it, still growing. Think about it. A profiler in the BAU and he's not even fully grown. He's come a long way in seven years. You always pick the cases with JJ, she goes through them, finds the ones she deems most important and you bring them to us. Morgan chose cases when he was acting UC. I've chosen a couple of times. This time Reid chose a case. He saw something, two attacks that were linked by this little girl and now she's missing. How could he not choose to make this a federal case? I don't know if your nose is out of joint because he went ahead and offered our services without checking." Rossi raised his hand before Hotch could speak, "Okay, maybe he should have. He's trying to tell you something Hotch. He's trying to tell you that he's not the little baby brother in this weird little family we've got going on here. He's doing what every kid that grows into a man eventually does one day. He's challenging his father!"


	10. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: See my profile

A/N: for Sue!

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Ralph Kennedy entered his office to see Jim Brass and a lovely blonde woman sitting in front of his desk. "Jim," Ralph said, reaching out to shake the captain's hand, "good to see you again."

"Good to see you too Ralph; this is SSA Jareau from the FBI's behavioral analysis unit."

Ralph shook JJ's hand, "The BAU huh, I take it Spencer called you in. This must be about Will." He said as he sat in his chair.

"Yes," JJ replied. "We were just wondering if Mr. Reid had said anything about this case. I know you can't break confidentiality, but we're just trying to gather as much information as we can."

"There's not a lot I can tell you. She wasn't on the records here because Will had taken her case on an impulse and he'd never gotten back to the office that day to add her to the client list. He didn't tell me a lot, only that she wanted to be able to visit her daughter and he was determined to help her." The lawyer was quiet for a few moments, seeming to decide whether or not he should continue. His decision made, he said, "Will said he knew what it was like to have your actions hurt your child. He said that's why he had to help Lou-Anne and Rachael. He said it wasn't too late for them." He paused again. "Will lives in an almost self imposed exile. He very rarely has dinner with me and my wife. He spends most of his time alone. He told me he knows how much he hurt Spencer and that he can understand Spencer's attitude toward him. On the other hand, he's so proud of his boy. He has a scrapbook with newspaper articles and pictures of Spencer from when he was little and articles he's found on the net."

"Sometimes, late at night, when everyone's gone home, you can see a light under his door. He's not always busily working on a case. He's turning the pages of that scrapbook. I've watched him run his fingers over the pictures. He knows what it's like to miss a child you love and he knows what it's like for that to be of your own doing. That's why he so wanted to help this young woman reconnect with her daughter."

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Rossi and Dr. Robbins looked at the body of Lou-Anne McDaniels in the cooler. "Cause of death was a gunshot wound to the head. She did have DNA under her fingernails so we know she fought her attacker, it's just not in the system."

"Do you have any idea on the size of her attacker doctor?"

"Not a big man," Robbins said as he closed the cooler and leant on his crutch and made his way to the file he'd prepared. "She wouldn't have sustained so many cuts and bruises if he'd been large. He would have had control of her much sooner."

"Thanks Doctor," Rossi said as he headed for the conference room.

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"Mrs. Dinsdale, SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss," Morgan said, holding up his credentials and gesturing towards Emily who held up hers, "FBI, may we come in?"

"Oh," the woman with stringy dark hair that ended at her shoulders and very dark brown eyes said, "is this about Rachael, because the police were already here and we told them everything we know."

"Yes ma'am it is," Morgan said. "We might have some different questions. We'd also like to talk to the other children."

"Oh, well I don't kn…" the woman in blue jeans and a purple tank, began.

"How about you and I talk in the living room," Prentiss said, turning the woman in that direction, "and Agent Morgan can talk to the kids."

"I think I should be there when he talks to the kids."

"Oh, don't worry Mrs. Dinsdale," Prentiss assured her. "Agent Morgan is great with kids. Now where would he find them?"

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Hotch stared at the photos of William Reid, willing himself to look at them like any other victim, trying not to remember that this was Reid's father.

"Can I help you with anything?" Catherine said behind him.

"No, I'm just studying the photos, trying to gauge something about our unsub," he told her.

"Unsubs," she said. "Lou-Anne McDaniels' killer and William Reid's assailant were two separate people."

"How do you know this?"

"Why wouldn't the unsub," she stressed the word, "not have just shot William Reid too? It would have been faster, easier and cleaner."

"He probably didn't want a gunshot calling attention to himself in a residential area," Hotch replied.

"Yeah, well Doc Robbins concluded that Ms. McDaniels' killer wasn't big. But this evidence," she pointed to the pictures of William Reid, "tells us Mr. Reid's attacker was. See the hilt mark." She pointed to an area on one of William Reid's wounds. "It's prominent above the stab wound which means the wound was delivered in a downward direction, from someone taller. These oblique abrasions on the wound delivered to the spleen tell us the killer was right handed. The elliptical slits tell us he used a double edged knife, both sides sharp, and the surgeon said from the wounds, about eight inches. The partial shoe print, where we got our trace sand evidence, was quite large. I'd say we're looking at a big man." After giving all the physical reasons, Catherine smirked, "And furthermore, Henry just gave me the results." She lifted a paper she held in her hand, "Two different sets of DNA."

Hotch nodded, "So we're looking for a team."

"Sounds like that makes Dr. Reid's take on things more plausible," Catherine added before leaving the room.

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"Could I speak to SSA Cole please?"

A few moments passed. _"Katie Cole,"_ the voice on the other end said.

"Hi Katie, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We met before on that case with Peter."

"_Of course, how are you Dr. Reid?"_

"I'm fine." He explained the situation and what had happened to Lou-Anne McDaniels, William Reid and Rachael. "Obviously, someone didn't want authorities getting anywhere near that child. I feel it could somehow be related to pedophilia or kiddie porn, or it could be just physical abuse. Either way, I believe something is or was happening to that child. I was wondering if, as your team scours sites, they could keep an eye out for this little girl. You can get her picture off the amber alert issued from Las Vegas. If you spot her do you think you could let me know? At least then we'll know what we're dealing with."

"_Certainly, I'll get on it right away."_

"Thanks, she's a foster child and if I'm right about what's going on, she's not the only one; they could be trafficking kids over state lines for sexual abuse and exploitation and we have to find a way to stop it."

"_I'll call you as soon as I have anything, thanks Dr. Reid."_

"Thanks for your help." Reid ended the call knowing Hotch would likely be pissed at him, but he had to do something and since Hotch wasn't allowing him to work on his own case, then he'd try another route and Hotch would have to live with it, or possibly suspend him. Reid found he didn't really care which at this point. He looked at the cell in his hand. He had something important he needed to do.


	11. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Morgan entered the Dinsdale's family room to find as small boy he considered to be about six, with a mop of curly blond hair, on top of a little girl about the same age who lay face down on the floor while the girl's auburn locks moved from side to side as she said, "No, Kevin."

"Hey there little man, what are you up to?" Morgan asked from the doorway. The boy gasped and jumped off the girl. She sat up, her blue eyes like saucers; such a beautiful contrast to her hair and the freckles that dusted her cheeks Morgan thought.

"Wh… who are you?" She asked timidly.

"My name is Derek," Morgan advanced further into the room. "I work for the FBI, see." He pulled his badge from his pocket and showed it to them.

Kevin backed away, tugging the girl's arm and pulling her to her feet as he did so. "We didn't do anything."

"No, I know you didn't," Morgan stressed. "I didn't want to talk to you about anything you did. I just wanted to ask you some questions about Rachael."

"She ran away," the little girl said.

"Yes, I know that and my friends and I are trying to find her. We just wondered if you might know anything that might help us."

"We don't," the two said as one, the blond and red heads shaking in unison.

"Sometimes people know things they don't think they know." Morgan told them. "How about you sit over here on the couch and we'll talk, okay?"

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"Mrs. Dinsdale, did Rachael ever have trouble with anyone, at school perhaps?" Emily asked as she and Tina Dinsdale each took seats in the living room, Tina Dinsdale on the soft beige leather sofa and Emily on the matching love seat.

"No, no, I home school the kids," Tina responded.

"Have there been any changes in Rachael's behavior of late?" Prentiss continued, watching Tina's body language closely.

"No," the woman persisted, looking toward the door.

"Don't worry Mrs. Dinsdale; the children are fine with Agent Morgan."

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Denise Brighton looked at JJ and Brass over the counter of the small diner where the woman worked while she poured them each a cup of coffee. "I can't talk for too long," she said, "or the boss will be after me."

"That's all right," Jim told her. "If she has problems with it, I'll set her straight." He began adding cream to his coffee.

"Yeah, that don't mean she ain't gonna fire me the minute yous two's out da door."

"What can you tell us about Lou-Anne McDaniels and her daughter?" JJ asked. "A neighbor of hers told us you two were good friends."

"Yeah," Denise said as she wiped down the counter and gathered salt and pepper shakers to fill while they talked. "We was. Lou-Anne only wanted to be able to see Rachael. She wanted to get her back someday, but not yet. She said she wan't ready yet. She worked here and saved up so she could take some night classes at the community college. She wanted to better herself so she could get a good job and be a good mom to Rachael. She was scared goin' to da hearin' yestday, but when she got home she tole me that there was a lawyer was gonna help her pro somethin' or other, anyway, for free. . She said he was real nice, dressed real nice and smelled good. She was sure he was the best lawyer in the city. He tole her to get some new clothes for da nex hearin' an' that's the lass time I seen her."

JJ thought of the bag of new clothes found next to Lou-Anne's body. "Did anyone know that Lou-Anne was trying to get visitation with her daughter?" She asked.

"Well, she din't make no secret 'bout it," Denise replied.

"Did she ever tell you she felt like someone was watching or following her," JJ asked.

"Nah, she never said nothin' like that. Who'd care if she's tryin' ta see Rachael?"

"Thank you Miss Brighton," Jim said. "We'll let you get back to your work." He put some money on the counter for the coffee including a hefty tip and followed JJ out the door.

JJ looked at him once they were outside the diner. "No one likely cared if Lou-Anne was trying to see Rachael until she happened to get herself a respected attorney," she said.

"That spelled trouble for someone," Jim agreed.

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Now both Hotch and Rossi stared at the pictures on the board. As far as victimology went, the only thing their two victims had in common was that they were both invested in getting Lou-Anne McDaniels visitation with her daughter and someone had to stop that, Hotch mused as JJ and Jim Brass entered the room. "Ralph Kennedy has no idea who'd hurt Mr. Reid," JJ told him. "He didn't know a lot about the case only that Mr. Reid was determined to get Lou-Anne visitation with her daughter."

"William Reid's friend thinks he has a lot of guilt over letting his own kid down as a father and wanted to help this girl while they still had a chance." Brass added. He couldn't help but notice the brief looks that passed between Agents Hotchner, Jareau and Rossi.

"Since the unsubs don't realize that Lou-Anne McDaniels had William Reid's card in her jeans pocket," Hotch stated, "they may not realize we've connected the cases, especially since William Reid never got back to the office to add Lou-Anne to his list of clients. I'd like to keep it that way, so nothing to the press that we, in any way, link these deaths with each other although the press might link Lou-Anne's to Rachael's disappearance. Try to keep a lid on it JJ and please pass this on to your people Captain Brass."

"Right," JJ replied.

"I'll get on that," Jim replied as he left the room.

Morgan and Prentiss passed Jim as they returned to the conference room. "The foster mom is definitely not telling us everything although she wouldn't say anything other than Rachael is a good girl and she has no idea why she'd ever run away," Emily reported.

"We have to get those kids out of there Hotch," Morgan added. "I don't know what's going on there but it's something hinky. When I entered the room, the little boy, Kevin, he's six, was being a little overly aggressive toward Natalie, who's seven. He had her on the floor and was on top of her. He could have been replaying what's happened to him. But they both really seemed frightened of me, maybe because I'm physically imposing, but you know me Hotch, I've got a pretty good rep with kids, and when I assured them I wouldn't hurt them and that I was an FBI agent and showed them my badge, which most kids seem to like, these two became even more distant. They withdrew; no eye contact and said everything was wonderful in the house. The little girl kept moving further away. She hid herself behind a pillow Hotch. These are all defensive mechanisms. Kids don't usually display this kind of body language around an officer of the law."

"Unless they're afraid of what he might find out," Hotch concluded.

"Also," Emily added, "they're home schooled, so no teacher or guidance counselor to tell. They're virtually isolated from those who might be in a position to help them."

"What can we do?" JJ asked. "If what Reid suspects is going on with these kids too, we've got to get them out of there."

"If we do," Rossi said, "and Reid's right, that something bigger is at play here, then they'll probably just close up shop and we'll have lost our chance to get them, and find Rachael, for good. I don't think they'll do anything to the kids when they know that the police and FBI could be paying them a visit at any time."

"Are we assuming that Rachael's still alive?" JJ wanted to know.

"Until we find a body, I never assume otherwise," Hotch told her.

"If this is child exploitation as Reid suspects," Rossi posed, "they wouldn't want to get rid of a cash cow. They can make about $200,000 a year off one young girl."

"Rossi," Morgan remarked, "you do know you sound like Reid?"

"What," the older agent splayed his hands out in front of him; "when are you guys going to realize I can know stuff?" This brought a small chuckle from the group.

"How did they know anyway?" Emily asked suddenly. "How did the Dinsdales know that Lou-Anne was trying to get visitation privileges? I mean if the hearing never took place and wasn't on record, how did the Dinsdales, or whoever, find out about Lou-Anne or William Reid?"

"There's only one person I can think of who'd be notified of something like that," Hotch said. He pulled his cell from his pocket and hit a number, "Garcia…"

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Hotch had been right about one thing Reid thought. He had needed the few hours of sleep he'd gotten. Along with a shower, change of clothes and a meal from a McDonald's drive through, he felt like a new man. Okay, maybe that was taking it a bit too far, he told himself, but he did feel somewhat rejuvenated, which was good considering the task ahead of him. Now, clad in a pair of grey cords, a blue shirt under a black jacket, coordinated with a black tie featuring tiny white diamonds, he climbed the stairs slowly, still not sure of what he would say or do. He entered the quiet room and headed toward the window. Late afternoon sun gleamed off the blond head bent over her writing. He sat, blocking her light momentarily, and she looked up. "Hi mom," he said.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: See my profile

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"Spencer, what are you doing here? Baby," Dianna Reid reached up and fingered a small bit of hair that fell over her son's forehead when he didn't answer right away. "Please tell me that you're not here on one of those awful cases you work on."

"Well, not exactly," Reid replied unable to meet his mother's eyes.

"Okay, what's up?" His mother asked suspiciously.

"Mom, I need to talk to you about something." Reid said softly as he looked over his mother's head noting a nurse and an orderly were standing nearby, ready for an adverse reaction. He'd spoken to Dr. Norman, explaining the circumstances and asking if his mother could be medicated before his visit. She seemed lucid but calm which was what he'd been hoping for.

"Spencer, you're scaring me. Are you all right? There isn't something wrong with you, is there?" She looked like she was about to rise from her chair but Reid stopped both her and the hospital personnel, who'd been about to move forward, by raising his hand.

"I'm fine Mom," Reid assured her. "I'm here about something else." He'd gone over this conversation many times in his head, but now that the time had come to say the actual words, his brilliant mind was blank.

"What is it Spencer?" Dianna could see the concern on her son's face and reached out to him.

Reid took a deep breath. "Dad was attacked last night. He was stabbed numerous times." He saw his mother's mouth gape open and heard her gasp, but raised his hand again to stop the Bennington employees from moving in. "He's in serious condition in the ICU in Summerlin."

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"Hotch, we may have something," JJ said as she closed her phone. "Garcia called and said Rachael's DCFS worker is Moira Ernest. I called DCFS and she apparently called in sick today but there's no answer at her home and no answer on her cell. Detective Vartann went to her home but there was no one there. Garcia tried to track the cell but it's turned off."

"Okay JJ, tell Garcia to keep a trace on that phone in case she turns it back on. We need to know where Moira Ernest is." Hotch replied.

"Do you think she has something to do with this?" Rossi asked.

"I don't know but she was the child's care worker. She'd be notified of any court dealings involving Rachael and it seems awfully strange that she would suddenly disappear just when Rachael does." The unit chief said.

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The large man pushed a piece of his oily, shoulder length brown hair behind his right ear as he looked at the Las Vegas Sun's crime reporter, Mort Neufeld's bi-line, which displayed a not too flattering picture of Lou-Anne McDaniels, probably one of her mug shots, he thought, along with a short blurb about her murder in an alley in the city the night before. This was just what he needed. This would convince that little brat bitch that there was no chance of getting back with mommy dearest again and that she better cooperate. He'd love to just smack the little bitch silly but that left bruises and some of the customers didn't like bruises. They liked the clean innocence of the children they were watching on the screen. If he smacked her around like she deserved, he'd have to wait for the bruises to heal and, as everybody said, time was money. He took the paper and strode down a long hallway and stopped in front of one of the rooms. He opened the door and shone his flashlight into the darkness within. No lights made it scarier for the room's occupant, something they counted on. The little girl blinked as the light hit her eyes and put her hand up to shade them, even though she welcomed some light. She couldn't see the person behind the brightness, but she didn't need to. Rachael could tell Mitch Lowery by the way he walked, the way he breathed and, worst of all, the way he smelled.

He stared at the little girl on a mattress that rested on the wooden floor, no sheets or blankets to give her comfort or warmth. Two steps in the small room, what most people would think of as no larger than a cell, brought him to the mattress where he knelt and grabbed the girl by the back of her long curly black hair. "Look at this you little shit," he said pointing to the paper and shining the light onto it so she could see her mother's picture. "No more need to whine for mommy. She's dead. That's what we do to people who don't do what we say. You got that?" He asked pulling her hair even tighter so Rachael gasped. He released her hair and the child fell back onto the mattress and a moment later was in complete darkness again where she let silent tears meander down her face.

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"Serious con…" After a long silence, Reid wasn't sure what to expect when his mother opened her mouth to speak. "Is… is he going to be alright?"

That was the question he'd been dreading, the one for which even his genius could provide no answer. "I don't know," he admitted at last. "The doctors have done all they can to repair the damage the knife wounds did to dad's body. Right now it's just wait and see." He wondered if what he'd said was getting through as he waited for her response. That had been the question most of his life. Sometime's he'd felt like he was caring for a child younger than himself and at other times his mother was the brilliant literature professor that he knew her to be. Those were the times he'd loved the most.

"Who would do something like that to your father?" She asked.

"They're investigating that right now," Reid told her. "Mom, I… I need to ask you something. It's important."

Dianna Reid seemed to be lost in her own little world, Reid feared as her eyes stared straight ahead, appearing to look at something no one else could see. He had seen this a thousand times before. But, to his surprise, a moment later she turned her head, "What?" She asked.

"Do you remember," he asked gently, just above a whisper, "if you and dad ever talked about what he wanted done if a situation like this ever came up?"

His mother looked far away again, but this time it was like she was looking back in her mind, looking for an answer. He'd seen the same look when he'd been trying to get her to remember Riley Jenkins. Finally she turned to him again. "I don't remember, why?"

"The doctor," he paused for a moment and cleared his throat. Dianna could see his Adam's apple move up and down as he swallowed. "If he doesn't improve, he wants me to decide whether or not to discontinue life support, because I'm next of kin."

He was totally unprepared when Dianna suddenly blurted out, "I want to see him."

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"Okay," Hotch said as they all stared at the white board. "We're all tired. We've hardly gotten any rest since the kidnapping and this. Let's go get something to eat and turn in for the night. Maybe we'll get more with fresh eyes. We'll deliver the profile first thing in the morning."

The rest of the team mumbled their agreement, left the room and headed down the hallway. A dark haired man, accompanied by a thinner younger blond man stopped them. "Are you with the BAU," the older one asked.

"Yes, I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner," Hotch said and gestured towards the rest of the team, "SSAs Prentiss, Morgan Rossi and Jareau."

"CSI Nick Stokes, CSI Greg Sanders," Nick motioned to his partner. "You must work with Spencer. We were on the scene at Mr. Reid's house and the ones who took pictures of his dad. How's his dad doing?"

"I don't think there's been any change," Hotch told them.

"Okay, well I hope everything works out for him. I guess we better find out what Catherine's got for us tonight. Nice to meet you; I hope you can get whoever did this to him and the McDaniels woman and find that little girl," Nick said as he and Greg moved on to begin another night shift.

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There had been many discussions and objections by both Reid and Dr. Norman as to why Dianna Reid should not go to the hospital to see William. They had all fallen on deaf ears. Dr. Norman had said that he could, of course, simply refuse to allow her to go and medicate her but Reid had wanted to avoid that if at all possible. That was the reason why Dianna was sitting in a chair beside William Reid's bed with two employees of Bennington keeping a close eye from the desk.

Reid had done his best to explain to his mother that there was nothing she could do for his father, but that had seemed of no consequence to her. He'd tried to explain what William's condition was and what to expect when she saw him, but he still kept a tight hold on her as her mouth and eyes had both widened at the sight of him and her hands flew to her face. "No!" was all she had said. After that she had sat silently in the chair beside his bed, softly holding his hand, now and then wiping away a tear. Reid glanced at his mother's hand resting in his father's and then his eyes shifted to his dad's on the other side of the bed. It was almost twenty years since he'd left them. Almost twenty years they'd been apart and they still both wore their wedding rings.

A soft cough took Reid's attention away from his parents and he looked up to see someone else standing over his dad's bed. "Hotch, what are you doing here?"


	13. Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Dianna turned her head at Reid's acknowledgement of his unit chief's presence. "What are you doing here?" She said sharply. "Shouldn't you be out looking for the person who did this," she gestured to the man in the bed and all medical paraphernalia around him, "to William?"

"I thought I would just check and see how Mr. Reid was doing. I tried calling Reid but then I realized that, of course, you wouldn't be allowed to have your phone on in here so I thought I'd come by." Hotch said quietly, not wanting to upset Dianna or disturb any of the other patients. "We are looking for his attacker Mrs. Reid. I can assure you of that."

"Really? If you were really trying to find this animal you wouldn't be standing here and you'd let Spencer help. He told me you won't let him help find the man that tried to kill his father." Dianna's voice was rising with every word and she appeared to be getting more agitated as she got to her feet.

"Mom," Reid said softly, reaching out to her but she pulled away.

"Who found that little boy the last time you were here?" She turned back to Hotch. "Spencer did, because he's the best and now he says you've just thrown him off this case; like William doesn't deserve to have the best fighting for him." Her voice had reached a high pitched squeal by now.

"Ma'am, please let me reassure you…" Hotch began.

"I don't believe your assurances," she screamed before Hotch could finish. "How do I know you're not involved?" She looked around the cubicle as if she thought someone might be listening in. Her voice rose as she spoke to the ceiling. "Maybe the government wanted William dead to silence him and then they sent you to investigate only, if you were really investigating, you wouldn't have taken Spencer off the case. Because you know Spencer would really look for the truth and maybe the government doesn't want that. What do you and the government have against my family?"

The staff from Bennington moved toward Dianna, one with a syringe in her hand while the other held Dianna for the injection. One of the ICU nurses approached Hotch. "Sir, I think perhaps you should leave."

Hotch looked at the scene before him, William Reid with IVs, a ventilator and various other tubes dealing with his bodily functions, the two Bennington employees helping a now sedated Dianna into a chair while they spoke softly to her and in the middle of it all, Reid, looking back and forth between his mother, his father and Hotch. "Reid I…"

"Hotch, just go," Reid said before dismissing Hotch and turning to his mother.

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"Why, if you thought we all needed a good meal and rest, are you sitting down here drinking a glass of scotch… alone?" Rossi asked above the pinging of slot machines at the other end of the lounge as he slid onto the barstool next to Hotch and motioned for the bartender to bring him a glass of scotch as well.

"I felt bad about not being able to answer that CSI's question about how Reid and his father were doing." Hotch turned his glass around and around on the bar.

"Hotch, we've been working on the case all day; you can't blame yourself for that," Rossi said as he took a sip of the drink the bartender had set in front of him. "But that's not why you're down here drinking instead of having a meal and getting some rest like you told all of us to do.

Hotch raised one eyebrow and his lips curled ever so slightly. "Whatever happened to the moratorium on inter-team profiling?

"Years of friendship trump a moratorium," Rossi replied glibly. "Did you talk to Reid?"

"I tried," Hotch sipped his own scotch.

"What, he's still pissed? Do you want me to talk to him?"

"He was certainly pissed when I left. He thinks I don't trust him because of what happened over the Prentiss situation. I tried to call him but I couldn't reach him on his cell…"

"And if we're being candid Aaron, all of us felt betrayed by the actions the three of you took. The rest of us just came to terms with it sooner. You had to know he'd feel it the most."

Hotch nodded, "That's why I went looking for him. I wanted to set things straight, however…" He relayed the events that had taken place at the hospital. "I wasn't prepared to see Reid's mother there. I guess I didn't think, and then she was attacking me like a mother bear protecting her cub and accusing me of not doing the best I could for William because I'd taken Reid off the case. And when she started on about the government, it all went straight downhill."

"Aaron, you know Dianna Reid's not stable."

"Of course, I was just so taken aback and every time I tried to smooth things over, it got worse." He drained the last of his drink, pointed to his glass and the bartender set about getting him a refill. "When I saw those two people, they must have been from the sanitarium, come forward and give her that injection, my heart just broke for Reid. His father's health is in such a precarious state and then this with his mother…"

"So how did you end things?"

"He told me to go," Hotch sighed.

"If Dianna Reid only knew," Rossi said.

"Knew what?" Hotch asked.

"That we haven't gotten much farther than we were when we got here and that most of what we know came from Reid. So, let's finish our drinks, go get some rest, and in the morning, we'll go and give the LEOs Reid's profile. Let's make mama proud."

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"Good morning everyone," Hotch said to the group of detectives and police officers gathered in the room. He recognized Captain Brass and Detective Vartann, but the others, like in most cities, were a blur. "We believe we are looking at two types of unknown subjects, or unsubs, here."

"One," Morgan said, "is the preferential pedophile. These offenders are usually aroused by sexual posing, performing or watching others performing sexual acts on a child of a certain age, like Rachael McDaniels."

"Secondly," Prentiss said, "we feel we're dealing with a child trafficker, who exploits the children he traffics for his own needs. He's probably part of a group and they're not likely to be pedophiles themselves; they just take advantage of those who are."

"Most of them are also likely sexual sadists," Rossi added. "It's not particularly the sex with the children that arouses them, but the pain that act causes the children. This is what gets them off. There's also financial gain from producing print or videos that are marketed through a sub-culture of black market contacts who make them available to ready customers."

"Photographs are purchased through the mail and ads are exchanged between pedophiles through computer bulletin boards, kind of like a barter system." Morgan explained. "Child pornography used to only be available in the form of magazines such as _Lolitots_ or _Lolita,_ aimed at preferential offenders who were interested in young girls while _Piccolo, Rare Boys_ and _Tommy_ focused on young boys."

"With the advent of the internet," Prentiss continued, "the proliferation of child pornography has spiked dramatically. Pedophiles are finding newer and better ways to fulfill their aberrant desires."

"The foster child program is a fertile hunting ground for these unsubs." Hotch continued. "Many, not all foster parents of course, get into foster care for the benefits. Pedophilia, and physical abuse in general, are common in many foster homes and the foster parents often see the children as little more than a way to get more money into the house. About 75% of all foster children report some kind of abuse."

"Yeah," Brass replied, "Dr. Reid gave us all the statistics."

"I'm sure he did," Rossi whispered under his breath. "Also most children targeted by pedophiles come from homes where there is family disorganization and discord with no close relationships between parents, hence admittance to the foster care system," he added.

"It also puts a pedophile in contact with a child under his or her roof," Morgan said. "Children involved in porn often feel intimidated by adults who hold power over them. If they're in foster care, they know that the government took them from their home and put them here. They begin to believe this is how it's supposed to be. Pedophiles will find a way to get to children. They'll be teachers, little league coaches," he paused almost imperceptibly to anyone but his teammates, "youth group or boy scout leaders. You name it they'll find a way."

"Lou-Anne McDaniels' appearance in court to get visitation rights with Rachael must have put these unsubs on notice." Prentiss carried on. "They don't want anyone in the picture who could discover what's been going on. They might have been able to handle McDaniels, but when William Reid became involved, it was a situation they felt they had to act on."

"Fortunately, I don't think they realize that we've connected these crimes and that McDaniels death will go down as a mugging." Rossi reminded them, "so please don't let it slip that we've made the connection between McDaniels and Reid. We're going to look at anyone who was in the courtroom two days ago and privy to the happenings. We're looking into a woman named Moira Ernest, Rachael's DCFS worker, who hasn't been seen or heard from in the last day or so. The only particulars we have are on your handout. Until we get concrete information on her, she is a person of interest. We're also going to have to sift through the Dinsdale's phone records and we'll try to get a warrant to seize their computers so an analyst can go through them. Look at anyone in their life from social workers, church leaders to anyone who has contact with the children."

"Viewers of child pornography tend to be males over the age of twenty-five. Comb through your sex offender registry and if anyone looks like a possible pass them on to us and our analyst in Quantico will follow up on it," Hotch stated.

"When I talked to the kids at the Dinsdale home," Morgan said, "they were very scared of me…"

One of the officers, a short man in the back snickered, "Hell, I'm scared of you," causing his fellow officers a brief chuckle.

"I just mean that these kids seem to have been taught to be leery of police officers where most children welcome them. This goes along with the intimidation child porn victims feel towards adults in authority." Morgan finished.

"We're done here for now," Hotch said, "Any questions contact me or one of the team, thank you."

"Okay guys," Brass said, "get your assignments and hit the streets."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Reid ran his hands over his face, hoping to dispel some of the cobwebs that seemed to be messing up his brain. The evening nurse had suggested he get some rest, so once he'd gotten his mother back to Bennington after the debacle of a visit, he'd headed to the hotel room, having left specific instructions that he be called should there be the slightest change in his father or if his mother needed him. He hadn't been, so by all accounts, he should be well rested instead of feeling groggy and fighting off a headache. How much trouble was he in from Hotch for telling him to get lost, he wondered?

He was taken a bit aback when he opened his eyes to see a middle aged Hispanic man, burly in build with streaks of gray running through his black hair. He gasped at the sight of William Reid. "La madre santa de Dios," he said crossing himself. He then looked at Reid. "I'd heard what happened to Will and I just wanted to visit, to say we're all praying for him, but I never realized..." He gestured his hand toward the bed and then noticed the gun on Reid's hip. "I had no idea he was under police protection."

"He's not, I'm not the police," Reid stated. "I'm with the FBI. I'm his son SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, and you are?"

"I'm sorry," the man reached out his hand, "where are my manners? Alex Menendez, I'm a lawyer like your father."

"You're with my dad's firm," Reid asked.

"No, we're just friends. I just came to see how he was doing. He'll be glad that you're here. "

"I don't think he's even aware that I'm here," Reid replied.

"Oh, I believe deep down he does, and it will help him get better. I must go. I just wanted to stop by and see him before I went to work. Please know our prayers are with him and you," the man reached out and took one of Reid's hands in both of his and shook it. "Via con Dios," he said as he turned to leave.

"Thank you," Reid said as the man left and he returned to the chair by his father's bed.

Alex Menendez pulled his cell out of his pocket after closing the door of his Lexus and hit speed dial, then turned it off and stared at the object. It was a call he was never supposed to make.

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"Garcia's been through the Dinsdale's phone records," Morgan told Hotch as he entered the conference room. "She found a couple of things. They made quite a few calls to a disposable cell so we have no idea what that was about and also a few calls to an Alex Menendez who's a lawyer here in Vegas."

"Did the Dinsdale's have legal problems?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know Hotch. She never mentioned anything to Emily when she was there and, although Emily thought she was lying, she also thought she was good at it. According to her, everything in the home was wonderful and because the kids aren't so good at lying, we know that's not true."

"Maybe she's had a lot of practice," Hotch suggested. "Perhaps you should contact Mr. Menendez and just see what he has to say on the subject. Prentiss and Rossi are over at William Reid's house on the off chance that he went home and left something about the case in his home. JJ's dealing with the press."

"What are you going to do Hotch?"

"Try to mend a fence," the unit chief said before leaving the room.

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"I don't like this Rossi," Emily said as they surveyed the neat living room of William Reid's home. "I mean, I'm used to going through victim's places to try and figure out something about the crime, but this is Reid's dad."

"We've got to forget about that for the moment. This is just another victim," he told her as he pulled open the drawer to William's desk. "Remember, Morgan and I went through your apartment. Do you think we liked that?"

"That was different; I knew you'd be coming." Prentiss nodded her acknowledgment that it was a job that had to be done. "There are some messages on the machine," she remarked, pressing the button with her gloved finger. _"Hi, it's me, just wanted to touch base but couldn't get you on your cell, I'll try later."_

Emily looked at the call display, "Matt Hurst," she said. "I'll get Garcia to find out who he is." She pulled her cell from her pocket and pressed speed dial. "Hey PG…"

Finding nothing in the living room, Rossi entered the next room, a comfortable den with a sofa and armchairs placed around a fireplace on the outside facing wall. A television hung above the fireplace and on the mantel sat an IPod and dock. He looked through the music, mostly classical but some easy listening and jazz. Tony Bennett seemed to be next on the play list. On either side of the mantel were pictures, one of a young boy with glasses in a baseball uniform and a red cap, the other a photo of the same little boy but this time a younger Dianna Reid had her arm around him. They looked happy. The other three walls were lined with bookcases filled to capacity. The genre of reading material was vast from law books, science fiction, the classics and murder mysteries to Elizabethan poetry. He noted some recognizable titles on profiling among William Reid's book collection, a couple fictional like Caleb Carr's The Alienist and Angel of Darkness and some nonfiction, The Cases That Haunt Us and Journey into Darkness by former fellow profiler John Douglas. Then his eyes fell on three very familiar titles, The Eyes of a Predator, Frenzy and Deviance. So Reid's father had read his books. A slight grin crossed the profiler's face. Why wasn't he surprised?

The collection also contained a wide variety of periodicals, many of them, as would be expected, on the law, Lawyers Weekly, American Lawyer and ABA Journal. There were others though, Time and National Geographic among them. Rossi noted three other magazines, American Behavioral Scientist, Journal of Criminal Justice and Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis. Rossi had read articles that Reid had published in these magazines.

Rossi shook his head, still perplexed by the complexity that was the Reid family. He wondered how William Reid could have left his son in the position he did. It was obvious the man loved his son, deeply. It oozed from every corner of this room. But it wasn't a love that was expressed ostentatiously to the world. It wasn't "Look what my son has done." It was quiet and innate, meant only for this room where visitors wouldn't come and the world could not intrude on the time that William spent with his son's work, his son's pictures and listened to the music that Spencer must have listened to as a boy and still found comforting to this day.

"That guy is a private investigator," Prentiss said as she entered the room. "Aw, is that Reid?" She picked up the picture of the little boy. "He's so cute." She suddenly noticed the other picture of Reid and his mother and felt somehow awkward, like he was looking at them going through his father's house. "I think maybe we should talk to the guy and see if he knows anything."

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"I wondered when you'd be by," Matt Hurst said to the two agents who sat in his office. The man appeared to be in his late forties, fit and carried himself with an easy confidence, direct brown eyes and an unruly head of sandy hair.

"Do you know anything about what's going on?" Rossi asked.

"Will asked me to look into Lou-Anne McDaniels and the Dinsdale's. He likes to have as much information as he can at his fingertips when he goes to court," Matt Hurst replied.

"So you didn't think it was odd when both McDaniels and Reid were attacked on the same day?" Emily wondered.

"Of course I did. Look, I used to be a cop. I can put two and two together as well as the next guy and I was going to go to the police with the information when I saw that junior was here. He's FBI, I figured he'd figure it out and he did, because the next time I turn around, you're all here and the only thing mentioned is that Rachael McDaniels is missing; nothing about Will. So, I saw the way you guys were spinning it and I left it well enough alone."

"Had you found out anything?" Rossi asked.

"No, I hadn't even gotten that far but when I saw the kid was here, I just backed off."

"The kid," Emily said. "Do you know Dr. Reid?"

"Know him," Hurst seemed to be considering the question as he steepled his fingers in front of his face. "Have we ever met, no. But, I've dug into everything there is to be dug into on that kid. He's been the one constant in my life for the last twenty years."

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"Okay Alex, thanks for the information. Maybe we won't be able to eliminate William Reid just yet. I'll contact our associates and take it from here. Don't call me again." The man closed his cell and set it down. He walked over and grabbed his robe off the hook, shrugged into it and headed for the door.

He opened it and heard, "All rise, court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Timothy Collins presiding."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: See my profile

**Warning: some child pornography is depicted**

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Reid looked up from his father's bed side to see Hotch approaching him. "Hotch, about last night," he began.

"I'd like to talk to you about last night Reid, but could we do it somewhere else. I don't want to disturb anyone here." He motioned to the patients and the nurses.

This didn't sound good Reid thought as he followed Hotch to the waiting room which, at the moment, was empty. "Okay Hotch, we're alone now. Look, about what my mom said last night and…"

"Reid, please," Hotch butted in. "I came to apologize to you. I came to check on how your father was doing. I had no idea your mother was here or I wouldn't have inserted myself into a family moment."

A family moment, Reid thought. He hadn't really thought of the three of them as a family in a long time. "I know my mom was way out of line with what she said." Reid responded.

"Reid, I understand, she's not mentally stable and this was a very unpredictable situation for her. Think no more about it."

Reid crossed his arms in front of him and began to pace the small room. "You know I'm always so concerned with my mom's mental state, that I often don't take time to consider how she feels; not what she thinks, what's going on in her head, but how she feels in her heart. I didn't want my mom to come here last night because I was afraid what happened might happen, but when I saw her with my dad I understood. Even though events that happened when I was four and her condition tore them apart, they never stopped loving each other."

"Despite your dad's condition, I'm glad you got to see that," Hotch admitted. Hotch smirked and raised his eyebrows, "And we certainly know she loves you."

Reid opened his mouth to speak but Hotch brushed it off with a wave of his hand. There were a few moments of silence when Reid said, "I don't know why I'm telling you any of this anyway; old habits I guess when it felt like we were a family. It doesn't feel like that now. It feels like we've lost something in all the lies. Before I always trusted that whoever I was with had my back but now… I mean JJ watched when I visited Henry; she saw how broken up I was over Emily and she just didn't care. You sat there and listened to me during the grief assessment." He gave a disdainful laugh. "That must have been pretty funny huh, and all the time you knew it wasn't true."

"No Reid, it wasn't funny at all." Hotch's cold dark eyes seemed to bore into him. "Do you think JJ and I took any pleasure out of the pain we knew our teammates and friends were going through? If you think that then you never truly knew us at all. We had to weigh the team's grief and the repercussions against Prentiss' life. And if the decision had been yours, you would have done the same thing. Do you think JJ hasn't cried her eyes out over this decision after she's seen you? Do you think I haven't spent sleepless nights over this? We knew with all the abandonment in your life that you'd be the most affected by this and it killed us inside to do that to you."

"Why didn't you just tell me? You say you trust me; do you think I would have given Emily up to Doyle. I'd die first Hotch. You know that."

"It's what might have happened before you died that concerned me. Emily said Doyle knew everything about us." He had stressed the word everything.

Reid was silent for a long moment; "You mean the Dilaudid?" he clarified.

"You said you'd never give up Emily and I believe you. But you can't say what you'd do if Doyle put you in the situation where your body was literally screaming for that drug and he held the needle in his hand, ready to quell your need if you'd just give up Emily."

Hotch's words hit him like he'd been drilled by a heavyweight boxer. He was right. Reid didn't know what he'd do. He wanted to think he'd resist for Emily's sake, but he couldn't be sure. He hung his head.

"I didn't say any of this to hurt you. I have as much trust and confidence in you as I always have. That's never wavered. If not, believe me, we wouldn't be here."

Reid nodded, was silent again for a time and then said, "Is it okay if I ask about the case?"

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They were only doing stills today Rachael had heard Mitch say. Stills were the best, if anything around here could be the best, she thought. At least all she had to do was show her body. That was bad enough, but at least she wouldn't have to do things with men or suffer through them doing things to her.

She couldn't understand why she was here by herself. Kevin and Natalie had always been here before. She knew she wasn't by herself. She knew there were others here. She hadn't seen them but she'd heard them screaming. Mitch and the people who made the pictures didn't mind if you screamed. She thought they kind of liked it.

The first time one of the men had put his thing in her mouth, she'd thrown up. Mitch got mad then because she'd 'ruined the take'. He'd beat on her. Mitch was always the one that did the beatings. He seemed to like it.

Then the men started putting it in down there. It had hurt and she'd screamed and then thought she'd get beaten by Mitch but he didn't seem to mind. Sometimes they'd turn her over and put it in there too. It hurt so much and she would bleed.

She knew her mommy had done some bad things with men, at least that's what Mitch said and the Dinsdales said that's why she was taken away. Maybe she was being punished for what her mommy had done. Maybe the policemen thought she was doing it too. Maybe they didn't know she wasn't doing it on purpose.

Mitch had said her mommy was dead. Now the Dinsdales and Kevin and Natalie weren't here either. Why was she all by herself? Would she ever get to go back to the house for a little while? It wasn't like a normal house, with a mommy and daddy and love, but it was better than this. Would she have to stay here forever? Didn't anybody care about her anymore?

They'd given her a pink top and a short pink skirt to put on. She didn't go to a change room. They all saw her naked all the time so what was the use of going to a change room. They never gave her any underpants. She knew why. When she had the clothes on, Adrienne put a little bit of light pink lipstick on her, not enough to make her look older, she'd told her, just enough to make her lips more enticing, whatever that meant.

"Hurry up Adrienne," Mitch called. "We have to get as much out of her as we can. Who knows, we might have to get rid of her."

Mitch pulled her onto the set and began to pose her for the camera, dropping her top down from her shoulder in one picture, having her kneeling on the bed in another, her bare bottom toward the camera. When they thought they'd taken enough pictures, Mitch dragged her to her room and threw her on the mattress.

She sat on the mattress. Get rid of her, what had he meant by that?

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"JJ and Brass have talked to Ralph Kennedy and Lou-Anne's best friend. Prentiss spoke to Mrs. Dinsdale and Morgan talked to the other two children in the Dinsdale household. Although they wouldn't say anything, he expects abuse there as well. He thinks the young boy is starting to exhibit some signs of aggression and ODD. Rossi and Prentiss went through your dad's house and Garcia is working on phone records."

Reid nodded with what Hotch was saying and was silent for a time when Hotch finished, seeming to try and make his mind up about something. "Hotch, I did something."

"I'm not going to like this, am I Reid?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know." He paused again. "I called Katie Cole. I asked her to have her agents who were trolling kiddie porn sites and chat rooms keep an eye out for Rachael. I thought if they found her and we could get a line on the viewers and Garcia could trace the source, it would be a good chance of finding Rachael." He paused again, "If she's still alive."

Hotch looked sternly at Reid upon his admission. He should reprimand his agent, but how could he criticize him? He'd been right when he'd stated that he himself should likely not have been involved in the case after Foyet had involved Haley and Jack, but there was no way he was being kept out of it. "Good call, I hope it gets us something. I've got to get back to the team. Take care of your parents."

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Mitch sifted through the proofs Cam had just given him of Rachael. The little bitch was made for the camera; that was for sure. These were great. They were sure to be just the teasers they needed to get the wafflers on board. "Great work man," he told Cameron Finch. "Get these to Frank. I want them out there ASAP. Never know when we might have to ditch the kid."


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Reid sat in silence, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped beneath his chin; in as much silence as there could be in the ICU that was. The machines continued to blip and hiss but somehow he'd been able to block it out as he went over his conversation with Hotch in his mind. Did Hotch consider him a liability now? No, he finally told himself; Hotch had said if he didn't trust him he wouldn't be a part of the team. That was one thing he knew Hotch wouldn't lie about. He looked around him as Laura, his father's nurse approached.

"We're going to give your dad his bath now and the doctor will be making his rounds," she told him.

He needed a break anyway, he told himself. He stood and spoke to Laura, "Okay then, I'm going to leave for a while. If there's any change or you need me for something, you have my cell number."

"Of course doctor," the nurse replied.

He left the ICU taking the elevator to the main floor and out of the hospital. He took a deep breath. What was it about the smell of hospitals? Every one he'd ever been in had smelled the same. What to do now, he wondered? Hotch didn't want him near the case. He could go see his mother but after the fiasco of last night, he thought he'd give her a day to let the staff calm her. There were no friends to visit. He gave a small empty chuckle. Here he was in his home town and he had no idea what to do. As he headed for his car, his cell rang. "Reid," he said into his phone.

"_Dr. Reid, Katie Cole, I think we may have found something."_

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"What have you got Garcia?" Hotch asked.

"_I looked into other missing children in Vegas, concentrating on those in foster care…zilch. So, since Reid said he thought these kids might be being trafficked over state lines, I widened my search to the tri-state area of Nevada, Arizona and California and yahtzee, I found that there have been two other children in that age range go missing from foster care."_ Garcia's voice came through the speaker of Hotch's cell.

"What did you find out about them baby girl?" Morgan asked.

"_I found out that they're dead, poor little things. Cody Milton's body was found buried near Mesquite, Arizona where he was from and Megan Riley's body was found in the California desert by some hikers hiking the Kelso dunes. She was from Barstow."_

"Was there any sign of sexual abuse PG?" Emily inquired.

"_Yes, Cody died from head trauma but the coroner's report says there were signs of repeated sexual abuse. Bruising on his body and a broken femur led the ME to the conclusion that he'd been severely beaten. Megan was smothered, but she also had signs of sexual abuse. Tell me you're going to get these sickos,"_ she pleaded.

"We're going to try Garcia," Rossi said. "We're going to try."

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"What… what did you see?" Reid asked not sure if he really wanted to know.

"_A new image came up today on a chat site. It looks like your little girl; just posing, no actual sex in these pictures. They're just teasers that are sent out to draw the pedophile in and then they barter for pictures so they know each other is not the authorities. Once that relationship is in place, trust is established and they're hooked, they set up payment for the more explicit stuff."_

"I suppose there's no way you can zero in on where they're coming from?" Reid asked.

"_No it's from an internet company in Nebraska, the usual red tape,"_ she sighed.

"Can you get everything to Penelope Garcia in Quantico? She may be able to track them down."

"_We're on it Dr. Reid,"_ Katie assured him.

"Thank you Katie."

"_You're welcome. How's your father?"_

"Still no change."

"_Well, good luck with this Dr. Reid. Get the bastards. I hope all goes well with your dad."_

"Thanks Katie, I'll let you know." He closed his phone and headed for his rental car.

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"Seems like your boy was right all along," Brass who sat with the group said as JJ plotted the two new sites of Mesquite and Barstow on the map.

"He's not a boy," Morgan snapped sharply. "He's a supervisory special agent." Morgan approached the map, looked at the points plotted and then turned to the unit chief. "There's a lot of desert and wilderness out there. Hotch, you know no one's better at a geographical profile than Reid."

"Talking about me now behind my back," they heard from the doorway and turned to see the youngest member of the team standing there.

"No, well I guess technically," Brass replied. "Agent Morgan here was saying that no one is better at a geographic profile than you." He motioned with his head to the map on the wall.

"There are three points on here," Reid said looking at the map, "did something happen?"

"Garcia found reports of two kids' bodies being found; both had been in foster care, both murdered and both sexually abused." Rossi told him.

"I got a call from Katie Cole," Reid said.

"Katie," Morgan looked confused.

"Yeah, I called her. I told Hotch this morning. I thought her people could be on the lookout for Rachael and, if they found her, maybe Garcia could get something through the computer relays." Reid explained to his teammates and Brass.

"Who's Katie Cole?" Brass asked.

"She's the head of the FBI's Crimes Against Children Unit in College Park, Maryland," Hotch said. "Reid told me earlier he'd called her and I thought it was a good idea. You said she called Reid."

"Yeah," Reid didn't look at them but kept his eyes on the map. "A new image came on this morning of a little girl she's sure is Rachael; can't track the source, of course. I told her to send everything to Garcia and she can maybe track them or, at least, ping on the viewers, then the CACU and the local LEOs wherever they are might be able to get something."

"Good," Hotch replied as his cell rang. "Hotchner," he said before hearing Garcia's voice and putting his phone on speaker once again.

"_Is Reid there with you?"_ she asked.

"Yes, baby girl, he's filled us in on Katie." Morgan responded.

"_That was a good call sweet cheeks,"_ she responded, causing Brass to look around at these people, baby girl, sweet cheeks? Garcia carried on. _"I couldn't track these sickos through their network. They're using proxy servers to hell and back. Aargh, I hate it when they're good. Anyway, I did get a line on the viewers … but, all names and any credit card numbers are encrypted. I've run them through my decryption software but so far no luck. I'll keep trying."_

"Garcia, can you send those encryptions to me," Reid said.

"_Sure Reid, but I don't think you'll be able to do anything my babies won't."_ She pushed a key on her computer_, "Done, but like I said, my own programs will likely eval…"_

"It looks like they're using a triple DES hexadecimal encryption algorithm," Reid said as he looked at the long lines of letters and numbers displayed on his phone. "I can use cipher block chaining with an initialization vector as a key and once I remove the padding, we'll have the names or numbers. Thanks Garcia." He strode towards the door. "Captain Brass I need a desk or table somewhere quiet for a while," he said as he exited.

Jim Brass stood up and headed for the door to accommodate the young profiler. He turned back to the others. "Please tell me nobody in this room understood what he just said."


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: See my profile

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A couple of hours had passed when Reid entered the conference room again to find JJ there grabbing her suit jacket. "I got the decryptions done and I sent them to Garcia so she can find out who and where they are. They're likely to be all over the country, but even so, maybe the LEOs where they are can get something useful out of them."

"Spence, I was just on my way to find you. We decided to break for something to eat and if I know you, you haven't had a good meal in the last couple of days. So grab your messenger bag and let's catch up with the others."

"Don't call me that please," Reid said sharply.

"Don't call you what?" JJ responded, the confusion evident on her face.

"Spence," he replied.

"I've always called you Spence," she said looking no less baffled.

Reid stared at her coldly for a moment. "No, the JJ who was my friend, who I thought loved me and trusted me, who was like family to me called me Spence." He looked down and his voice cracked. "She was the only one who ever called me Spence… and I loved it." He was quiet for a moment. "But you… you lie and betray those who love and trust you. Where did the JJ go that used to work with the team? What did the DOD do to her? It's like she's gone." His hands waved in the air as if she'd somehow vanished there, "And there 's this new JJ that I don't know, this new JJ who held me in her arms while I cried over Emily's supposed death and it was all just a big joke to you…"

"Spence, it was never…" JJ interjected.

"I told you," Reid raised his voice, cutting her off. "Don't call me that. And don't tell me it was never a joke and you never meant to hurt anyone. I heard it all from Hotch… cried yourself to sleep, tossed and turned all night…yada yada yada. You watched me… you literally sat there and watched me trying to ease my pain by playing with little Henry and all the time you knew. The thing is you didn't have to grieve did you. You knew she was still alive. Hotch didn't have to grieve so he was able to put us through that dog and pony show of a grief assessment and not feel anything. How could you both be so cold?"

"Do you think it didn't kill me inside to have to do that? Don't you think I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't?"

"Yeah, I know; Hotch told me." Reid pointed to himself. "The junkie might spill the beans."

"I never thought…"

Reid put up a hand to stop her. "Hey, it's okay. I am what I am. It's just good to know what my teammates actually think of me."

"Sp-" she stopped when he put up a hand. "Reid, that's never what I thought. You're Henry's godfather. I would never have left Henry in the hands of someone I didn't trust completely." She stopped for a few moments. "And don't you dare say I didn't grieve. You thought Emily was dead. I knew she wasn't. I knew she was out there somewhere still vulnerable to Ian Doyle and I went to sleep every night wondering if she'd made it through that day. I missed her too, like you all did. On top of that, Hotch and I had to watch you all grieve and we grieved too, not for Emily's death, of course, but for what it was doing to each of you." Her eyes began to water. "I saw some of that innocence leave your eyes, an innocence that had somehow always withstood everything this job had to throw at you and I hated myself that I was the cause of it." She finally raised her voice at last as a tear trickled slowly down each cheek.

"Yeah, well maybe if I hadn't been so damn innocent it wouldn't have hurt so much. I won't make that mistake again." He turned toward the white board. "I think I'll skip the food and get to work on this geographic profile."

JJ wiped her hand across her cheek. "Look, believe me or not, there's nothing I can do about that, but just know that I never set out to hurt you. The fact that you got hurt is an ugly consequence of the action we felt we had to take, and I'll have to live with that. I knew when I made the decision to go along with this that you would be the most hurt by it. I also thought that if it ever came to light you, out of anyone, would understand that sometimes you have to make a decision you don't want to make to help someone you love, someone in your family, and you make that decision even though you know it's going to cause pain to someone you love, because deep in your soul you know it's the right thing to do." She stopped and turned for the door, then turned back. "But you're going to have to come to terms with it too. What other choice do we have? I hoped that you would know me well enough after all the years we've known each other and all we've been through together, that you would understand that I would never hurt you willingly. I know I may have to earn your trust again, and that it may take a while. I'm willing to do that because it's important to me. You're important to me Re… no… damn it… no… Spence." She put her hand up when he looked about to speak. "You let me have my say. Spence has always been an endearment between us and it always will. You are still and always have been very dear to me. I may have changed in your eyes, but nothing you've ever done has changed you in mine." She turned back to the door, "I'll see you later Spence."

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"Where's Reid?" Morgan asked when she settled in her chair with the rest of the team at the restaurant. "I thought you were waiting for him."

"I was, he decided not to come," JJ told them looking at her, as yet, empty coffee cup and twirling in on the white tablecloth. "He… he said he wanted to work on the geographic profile."

She finally glanced up and locked eyes with Hotch, who could see her eyes were nearly brimming and may overflow at any moment so he moved on to another subject. "Does it always stay so hot here?" Hotch wondered. "It makes me glad I spend the majority of my time in DC."

There was silence after Hotch's statement and it was a silence that made the empty sixth chair at the table even more noticeable. Reid would have had some statistics on the weather patterns and the reasons for them. The waitress chose that moment to come with the coffee pot. Rossi stood as she poured coffee into his cup. "Where would I find the restrooms?" he asked and then went in the direction the waitress pointed.

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"Where the hell is Rossi?" Morgan asked as the waitress began bringing their meals. "I thought he just went to the bathroom."

"Oh, the older gentleman with the goatee?" the waitress asked and the rest of the team nodded. "He came around and asked me to double his order and he'd take it to go."

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Reid raised his head as Rossi entered the room carrying a large paper bag. "Hi Rossi, I've been looking at this map and I have a few ideas."

Rossi placed the bag on the table, opened it and took out two tin foil pie plate like containers with covers which smelled glorious Reid thought as his stomach reminded him that he really was hungry, several rolls wrapped in tin foil, some cutlery and napkins. "We've got to talk."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: See my profile

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"Talk?" Reid said. "I thought you were at lunch with the others.

"I was; I changed my mind. This is how it's going to be." Rossi motioned for Reid to take the chair across from him. "You sit and eat, and I talk." Rossi sat in the chair. "When I'm done, you can have your say. Got it?"

Reid nodded, sat and began removing the cardboard lid from the tin foil dish which held wonderful smelling chicken fettuccini Alfredo. He picked up a fork and dug in.

Rossi likewise removed the lid from his food before he began. "I don't know what happened between you and JJ and it's totally up to you if you want to tell me. She was very upset when she got to the restaurant. She tried to hide it but you didn't need to be a profiler to see she was near tears. I'm assuming you had something to do with it since she said you decided not to join us for lunch." He twirled some noodles around his fork and brought it to his mouth, savoring the taste of the pasta and chicken covered in the creamy sauce before going on. "What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me?" Reid asked his mouth falling open and his eyes widening. "I'm not the one who went about pulling off this elaborate 'Emily is dead' hoax."

"No you didn't," Rossi agreed after he swallowed, "but put in either Hotch or JJ's position, I have no doubt that you would. Don't sit there and look so innocent. You're willing to lie when it suits you. You didn't hesitate to lie to Hotch in West Bune did you? You knew Owen wasn't going to his mother's grave but you let us all believe that he was. Look at the anthrax attack. Emily wanted to tell the public but you said no, he might run and destroy his samples."

"Both those times, I was trying to save lives," Reid replied his voice rising.

"So were Hotch and JJ. If they'd not done this and Emily was alive and walking around, Doyle would have been back. He was killing families and we were Emily's family and how better to get at us than through our families. Were you willing to sacrifice yours?"

The men ate quietly for a few minutes and then Rossi spoke again. "If Doyle knew Emily was alive, how would you have protected your mother at Bennington? How many other patients or staff would have been injured or killed there until they got to her? They wouldn't care. Instead of these unsubs," Rossi flipped his thumb toward the white board, "it might have been Doyle's men attacking your father and they wouldn't have failed. Hotch has already lost Haley to an unsub. Would you like to see him lose Jack too? Would you like to have lost your godson to Doyle?"

"No of course not." Reid said quietly.

"Then get your head out of your ass and get over it. This is not all about you. It was about protecting you and the rest of the team and the people most important to us all. Was I pissed when I first heard about it? Yeah, I thought a guy I've known for a lot of years could have trusted me with that, but now I understand the less people who knew, the better and safer it was for everyone. Now, what did you say to JJ to get her so upset?"

Reid looked around the room not answering for a few moments until Rossi prodded, "Reid."

"I told her I didn't want her to call me Spence anymore." He said at last.

"What?" Rossi said as if it didn't sound like such a big deal. There must be more to it than he was getting.

"JJ's the only person in the whole world who calls me Spence. I've always loved it. It was sort of like being a term of endearment without anyone actually knowing, not like with Garcia."

"Okay so why don't you want her to call you Spence?"

"I told her she was a liar now and betrayed the people around her and the woman that called me Spence wasn't like that. She was a sweet and loving person, not cold like the new JJ. I don't know what they did to her at the DOD."

Rossi got up and poured Reid and himself a cup of coffee, putting a liberal amount of sugar in Reid's before bringing them to the table and setting one in front of him while sitting himself down and taking a sip of his own. "I don't suppose you've ever looked in the mirror."

"What?" Reid squinted at him as he reached for the cup like it was a lifeline.

"Look in the mirror. I bet the man who looks back is not the same kid who started in the BAU all those years ago. This job, that place, all the people you've met there have changed you. If they hadn't there'd be something terribly wrong with you. JJ saw different things at the DOD, rubbed shoulders with a different kind of people and learned to play politics a bit. That's never a bad thing. She was able to use the people she met and the resources at her disposal to make things a lot easier for Emily and the rest of us…" he raised his hand to stop Reid when he looked about to speak, "in the long run. Yes, it was painful at first when we thought she'd died and almost as painful when we found out we'd been lied to, but in the end Doyle is dead, we're all safe and back together as a team. JJ always knew this could happen, that you could find out and take it badly, but she was willing to take that risk. She risked alienating you; risked you hating her for the rest of your life to keep you safe, that's not cold, that's love at its deepest."

"How do we ever trust them again? I mean, how do I go out into the field with three people I know willingly lied to me and expect them to have my back? Reid asked.

"You don't think that all they went through to keep you safe isn't proof that they have your back… always. Have you forgotten the secret they've kept to themselves about you?"

"I don't…" Reid began.

Rossi stood again and closed the door. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, your little, or perhaps not so little, shall we say, problem." Rossi held up his hand when Reid was about to speak. "And no they didn't tell me. When you live in this group for a while you get to know things."

"Like what?" Reid questioned.

"Like the fact that you are so adamant when you're injured that you not receive narcotics." Rossi told him and saw Reid hang his head. "Then there's your intimate knowledge of the twelve step program. That's a pretty closed society. Nobody talks. People who haven't been through those doors don't get that kind of knowledge. I don't know what happened but I'm assuming it happened on the job. Hotch wouldn't tolerate it otherwise and he and the rest of the team wouldn't have kept this whopper of a secret, in effect lying to the bureau, which could end their careers if found out, if they didn't care so much about you." He pointed his finger at Reid.

"It's just that…"

"Look at it this way. They know how angry you are with them and that you're afraid to trust them, yet they're not worried about you having their back. They know that they have to earn your trust back and they're all willing to do that, but you have to meet them half way and give them that chance."

"Okay, I'll tr… What is this?" Reid asked lifting some papers he'd noticed from the tabletop.

"The Dinsdale's phone records, why?" Rossi replied.

"This name, Alex Menendez, he came to see my dad this morning. He said he was a lawyer friend and that he was surprised my dad had police protection and I said he didn't and explained who I was."

The two men stared at each other. "I don't think that's a coincidence." Rossi said.

"Do you think someone's going to try and get at my dad?"

"Well, they don't know yet that we've put the cases together so I'm pretty sure they wouldn't want your dad to wake up."

"I'm going back to the hospital. I'll call and tell the team," Reid said as he ran for the door. He pushed speed dial as he ran through the building and then the lot to his car.

"What?" JJ said sharply as she answered when her cell displayed his number.

"Hi JJ, it's Spence."


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: See my profile

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"We should get Garcia to get everything she can on Alex Menendez," Hotch said as he and the other three agents entered the conference room.

"She's already on it," Rossi told them.

The foursome looked revitalized and Rossi was sure it had nothing to do with a good lunch. Perhaps the fact that Alex Menendez might be the break they'd been looking for had something to do with their attitude.

"Reid was studying the map but I don't know how far he'd gotten," Rossi said. "I made him sit down and eat."

Hotch cornered Rossi near the coffee pot. "So what did you say to him," the unit chief asked quietly.

"Hotch, I'm a hostage negotiator. I know how to talk to people." Rossi remarked assuredly.

"Sure, that's why you're paying alimony to three ex-wives," Hotch said with a grin as a tall balding man in his fifties entered the room.

"You must be the FBI profilers," he said extending his hand to Rossi, "Conrad Ecklie, head of the crime lab. I was away at a seminar when you arrived but Jim Brass has filled me in on the case. Thank you for being here, anything my lab can do for you just let me know."

"Thank you," Rossi said, shaking the man's hand. "Everyone has been very helpful so far." He introduced Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss and JJ.

"Is it just me," JJ whispered to Emily, "or does he look exactly like Fuchs?"

"It's not just you; he's a dead ringer for him, they could be twins." She replied as the man left.

Morgan smirked, "Maybe all useless bureaucrats look alike."

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Reid strode hurriedly to his father's bed to find Laura doing her checks and writing notations on a clipboard. "Has anyone been here to see my father?" He asked her.

"No, no one," she said.

"Has anyone called and asked about his condition?" Reid continued.

"Not that I know of," Laura replied. "We wouldn't be able to give them any information anyway, patient confidentiality. The only one we can give information to is you, unless you direct us otherwise."

"Okay, good, thanks," he said, taking the chair near William's bed. "Has there been any change?" He gestured with his hand to the numbers she was writing down.

"His vitals are pretty good. He has some tachycardia," she stopped, "that's when the…"

"Heart rate is increased," Reid finished for her, "likely due to the blood loss. How are his labs?"

"Sorry, I forget you're a doctor," Laura said.

"That's okay, I'm not a medical doctor anyway, his labs?" Reid asked again.

"Improving," Laura said as she put the clipboard at the foot of the bed.

"Good," Reid said as he pulled out his cell.

"You can't use that in here," Laura reminded him.

"Oh yeah, sorry," he put the cell back in his pocket. "Is there a land line I could use?"

"Sure, you can use that one at the desk. Just press nine for an outside line."

Hotch's cell rang, _"Hotchner,"_ he said as he answered.

"Hi Hotch," Reid said.

"_Is your father okay?"_

"Yeah he's fine, well as fine as he can be in his condition. I never got to finish looking at the map and I wondered if someone could bring it to me at the hospital. Anything on Menendez?"

"_No, not yet, Garcia's working on it,"_ Hotch told him. _"I'll get that map over to you."_

"Thanks Hotch," Reid said and hung up the phone. "Thanks Laura," he told the nurse.

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Hotch had barely closed his phone when Rossi's rang. "Garcia, have you got something for us?" He set his speaker on and turned it so the others could hear. "You're on speaker."

"_Yeah pals, I do. I've been very busy in Alex Menendez's network. He's got a work network and a home network, no surprise there. He wouldn't want confidential client info on his home network. There're also things on his home computer that he wouldn't want anyone to see."_

"What would those things be mama?" Morgan asked.

"_Pictures of little children doing and having the most unspeakable things done to them,"_ the tech replied and the team could hear the tears in her voice. She recovered quickly and anger took over. "_He tried to trick me. He used a different name and had his kiddie porn collection set up behind a massive firewall."_ Her voice was rising. "_But the sick bastard didn't know who he was dealing with. Firewalls and fake names do not scare Penelope Garcia."_

"Are you okay PG?" Emily asked.

"_No, but I will be when you nail this skeezy perv's ass to the wall."_

"Thanks Garcia," Hotch said as Rossi closed his phone.

"Just give me two minutes with that guy," Morgan said while pacing the small room appearing to look for something to punch.

"The fact is," Hotch began, "we can't use anything that we've got. We didn't have a warrant to go into his computer files."

"Well, then let's get one," JJ seemed to state the obvious.

"On what grounds? Hotch asked. "We have telephone calls made to him from the Dinsdales. His response will be they're his clients and attorney client privilege attaches. Then there's the fact that he went to see William Reid. He can declare there's nothing wrong with a man going to visit a colleague after he's been brutally attacked. No judge would give us a warrant on this. And it would make them aware that we've linked the two cases, something we don't want, if at all possible."

"Okay," Rossi said, "so we regroup. Menendez is the only lead we have. So we monitor his movements, phone calls, that sort of thing and try to get it to lead somewhere."

"Oh and Reid wants to see the map at the hospital." Hotch said.

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Reid heard the click of her boots on the tile floor before he saw her. The nurses wore rubber soled shoes that seemed to barely make a sound. "Hotch said you wanted this," Emily said, handing Reid the map.

"Thanks," Reid said taking the map from her. "I really didn't get enough time to study it."

Emily looked around at the IVs, the ventilator and other equipment and at the man who lay in the bed, his chest rising and falling at an even pace. She took the other chair in the little cubicle. "How you holding up?" She asked.

"So, are you the next one sent to lecture me? I've had it from Hotch, JJ and Rossi. Now you're here. When should I slot Morgan in?" He asked his voice rising.

"I'm not here to…" Emily began when Laura came up to them.

"I wonder if you're going to have a conversation if perhaps you could go to the family room," she suggested.

Reid considered that a good idea after what had happened with his mother the night before. "Sorry Laura."

"As I was saying," Emily continued when they were ensconced in the family room, him in one of the two navy blue armchairs on the far side of the room and her on the steel blue sofa next to it. A matching love seat to the sofa sat against the wall opposite the two chairs. Luckily the room was unoccupied at present. Reid had set the map on an end table next to the chair that held a lamp and some magazines. "I never came here to lecture you and I'm sorry that you feel that's what's being done to you. I just asked how you were holding up. This whole thing," she gestured to the ICU, "can't be easy on you."

"Nothing seems easy for me these days." Reid said looking at the carpet instead of at Emily. "I don't feel I can trust anyone anymore."

"No," Emily grabbed both his hands that were clasped in front of him in both of hers. "Please, don't let that happen. I don't want to be the reason that you lose your faith in your friends… your family who love you. I never wanted that. I never thought when I agreed to the plan that I'd see you or any of the team again. I thought you'd grieve for a while and then go on, hopefully remembering me fondly. And that's what you were doing and if Morgan hadn't stumbled upon the information he did, you'd be doing fine."

"But he did stumble on it and now I know the truth and I'm sick of people telling me what I should and should not be feeling. Now I know Hotch and JJ schemed and lied to me for a long time and now that it's out in the open, all everyone is saying is that they never meant to hurt me. As if that's supposed to make everything okay. A lot of times people don't mean to hurt you but they do. And I resent the fact that everyone on this team thinks I don't have the right to my own feelings. Of course none of you want me to feel hurt or betrayed. That would make it so much easier to forgive yourselves and not feel any responsibility for the whole situation; assuage all your guilt. I get that. But do you have any idea how hard it is for me to trust any of you now? How hard it is for me to be Henry's godfather and not trust a thing his mother says. How hard it is for me to follow Hotch's orders when I've lost my respect for him. And you, it's like I don't even know you. It's like you're just a ghost of…"

He pulled his hands from her grasp, grabbed the map and looked at it for a few seconds. "I have an idea."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: See my profile

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Reid and Emily hurried into the conference room after a police officer that Captain Brass trusted had been posted in the ICU to make sure no harm came to William Reid. "What is it Reid?" Hotch asked as the two entered the room, the map that had been on the white board flailing about in Reid's hand.

"I think I may know what they're doing, or more to the point, where they're doing it." He replied as he tacked the map on the white board. Hotch looked at Prentiss who merely shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I never thought of it until Prentiss started her lecture, my third one this day, I might add."

"Reid, I never…" Emily began only to be cut off by Reid.

"Anyway, Emily started talking and I was telling her how I was having trouble trusting anyone after what happened and that none of the people I knew were who I thought they were all these years and that she was just a ghost of the woman I'd known, or thought I'd known."

"Reid!" JJ said indignantly, "How could you say such a thing?"

The young profiler went on as if he hadn't heard JJ and couldn't see the hurt expressions on his teammates' faces. "When I mentioned ghosts, it got me to thinking. There are a bunch of ghost towns in this area," he pointed to an area in California desert, just over the borders of Nevada and Arizona, "remnants of the gold rush days. I was wondering if that's where they could be running their operation. They'd need a generator, a satellite and a bunch of computer equipment, but if Tobias Hankel could set something up in that little shack in the woods, I'm sure these people could do that in a ghost town. There'd be no one around them to cause them any trouble. They could go about their 'business,'" he made quotation marks with his fingers, "virtually unhindered."

Rossi watched the young man pace in front of the map, his hands moving as he spoke, occasionally pointing to this and that on the map. It was like he was teaching in front of a classroom. At first he had found Reid's proclivity for rambling on about any subject at the slightest provocation somewhat unnerving. But now that he'd gotten to know him, he knew Spencer Reid was never as joyous as when he was sharing his knowledge with another. He was never arrogant about it. It wasn't like he was showing off how much he knew. To him, he was simply giving you information that he knew so that when he was finished you would know more. He imagined that hadn't gone over so well when Reid had been a young boy in school, or a young boy in university for that matter. He was sure that Reid had always spent much of his time alone, reading books, trying to quench the thirst of a brain that was insatiable. Things to do with his mind and logic he'd always excelled at, but matters of the heart had escaped him. So, now that he'd finally found a group of people that accepted him for who and what he was and whom he trusted and loved like family, this had happened. It suddenly seemed like all of them, himself included, was almost blaming Reid for not shrugging it off in thirty seconds. He shook himself out of his reverie and concentrated on what Reid was saying.

"Some of them weren't much more than train depots where the trains in those days had to stop for water. Once railroad transportation improved, and they weren't needed, many of them just closed down after the gold rush ended."

"So, how many ghost towns we talkin' about Reid?" Morgan asked as he stood, his arms crossed across his chest.

"There are quite a few. Not all of them are closed down. Some have been refurbished and used for tourists, so I think we can eliminate those. Now CSI Hodges said the guy that attacked my dad had sand on his shoe that was found in the area around the Kelso sand dunes. It's got a pinky tinge due to the high quartz content and the granitics. I think it's best to concentrate on towns in that area. It's also the area where that little girl's body was found."

"We'll get Garcia on it." Hotch said.

"I already looked them up on my laptop," Reid interjected. "I think our best bet is Cima." He pointed to a spot on the map. "There's nothing there but some abandoned wooden buildings and a rail yard. It's not far from Kelso so the sand on the shoes would fit and the road that leads from Cima to Kelso takes you to the highway that leads to Barstow where the little girl whose body they found was from."

"Reid," Hotch began, "this theory does seem a little over the top. You expect us all to go to some ghost town in California when there's no evidence that there's anything going on there."

"There's evidence from the shoe Hotch." Reid reminded him.

"That's the only evidence and you must admit, it's pretty small to build a raid on Reid," Morgan agreed.

Reid nodded to himself. So this was how it was going to be, he thought. He'd made no secret of his distrust of his teammates, so this was what he was to get in return. How were they ever going to solve cases like this?

"What about Menendez? We're supposed to be tracking him aren't we?" JJ added.

They were obviously going to make this as hard on him as possible. Okay, he could take it, he told himself. He'd taken worse. "Garcia is monitoring him electronically; Brass' men are keeping their eyes out for him on the street. Detective Vartann and some men are going door to door canvassing the Dinsdale's neighborhood. The LVPD are doing what they can. They can't go to California; we can."

"I thought you didn't trust us," Emily said.

Reid grit his teeth. "How I feel about what was done to me personally and this is different. You may not like the fact that after what happened I didn't just shrug it off by saying shucks, holding hands and joining in a chorus of Kumbaya. I get that. I can't help the way I feel. One thing I do believe is that none of you would ever let your personal feelings get in the way of doing what was right for them." He pointed to Lou-Anne, Rachael and his father.

"Reid's right," Rossi said. "We haven't got any other clues here. Even if it doesn't pan out, we can't lose by going Cima."

There seemed to be a repeat of the day before when Hotch had removed Reid from the case and the pair had stared each other down. Hotch's scowl seemed to be even more stern than usual and his dark eyes looked almost black as their steely glare bore into Reid. Reid's puppy dog eyes had disappeared and they too seemed a darker brown as they looked back at Hotch, refusing this time to be the one that blinked.

"Alright," Hotch said at last. "I'll fill Brass in. Let's get a warrant and then we'll head for Cima, wheels up in thirty." He finished before turning and striding from the room.


	21. Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: See my profile

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"You're quiet," Morgan said as the SUV he and Reid rode in ate up the miles heading east on the I-15 that led from Barstow, where their plane had landed, into the California desert. Rossi had suggested Reid and Morgan ride together and he'd ride with Hotch, JJ and Emily. An unmarked van carrying a SWAT team from Barstow made up the last of the raiding party.

"Yeah, well it doesn't pay to open my mouth these days. Okay, you've got your chance. You're the only one who hasn't given me the lecture yet," Reid replied as he looked out the window. "So, why don't you go for it? I'm sure that's why Rossi suggested you ride with me."

Morgan sighed. "I'm not going to lecture you okay. I understand a lot of what you're feeling." He glanced at Reid who still looked out the window, then kept his eyes glued to the road.

"How did you get over it so easily?" Reid asked. "You must have been upset at what they did."

"I didn't get over it that easily kid, maybe a little faster than you, but that's not to say it was easy for me. I thought of a couple of things. Hope is paralyzing. If they'd let us in on the plan, how would we have handled it day in and day out knowing Emily was out there somewhere, possibly in danger and we couldn't help her. It would have killed us inside. Hotch and JJ bore that burden together. The rest of us were free to grieve and then move on. I understand how that can be because I went through it with my Aunt Yvonne and I even told her that the unsub had identified Cindy when he hadn't so she'd be able to move on. Now I know how that weight feels and it's a tough load to carry. But I did it for her so I guess I could more easily understand how Hotch and JJ had done that for us. I guess because they thought that we'd never find out, they felt that what they'd done for Emily's protection and ours wouldn't be turned into an act of betrayal."

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"We need to talk about Reid," Rossi said from his place in the back seat beside JJ as Hotch maneuvered their vehicle down the highway.

"So that's why you suggested this little set up for travel arrangements," Hotch said. "I don't know what there is to say Dave. We've all tried to talk to him and explain things. He's just not listening."

"I called a friend of mine, a psychologist in New York while you were arranging the flight." Rossi replied. "I asked her what the best way was to help someone get over a feeling of betrayal like this and, no," Rossi stressed, "I did not give her any details."

"What did she say," Emily turned slightly in her seat so she could see Rossi.

"Well one of the big things she said is that what we've all been doing is wrong. She said you can't expect someone you betray will get over it as soon as you'd like them to. She said we shouldn't be giving him all these lectures and explanations for the actions that you three took. We should allow Reid to have his pain, to let him feel what he feels and not try to make it go away."

"You know he said something to me," Emily said, "about having the right to have his feelings."

"He's right. Lana said that as far up the food chain as we feel we are, we're still animals and she also told me that a wounded person, just like any other wounded animal, wants to strike out."

"So that's why he told me he didn't want me to call him Spence anymore?" JJ asked. "He was striking out at me."

Rossi nodded his head, "Likely, and she said we should accept the fact that, for a while, the people who betrayed him will not be very lovable to him." He stopped for a moment. "She also said, and this might end up being a big thing for Reid considering his past; that we carry deep wounds from one betrayal to the next, and when the next blow comes, those latent feelings from the past will come out. When I think of how many times Reid's likely been, or feels he's been betrayed, that's a lot of built up hostility that's suddenly come to the forefront and, in all likelihood, overwhelmed him."

"What do we do?" Emily asked.

"Lana said that, within reason, we accept his behavior for the time being. She said it will probably work itself out in one of two ways. Reid will come to terms with things and things will get back to the way they were."

"Or," Hotch said.

"Either he'll withdraw from us completely or leave." Rossi finished.

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"The Kelbaker Road exit is coming up ahead," Reid noted from the map he held. They'd been on the road for almost an hour. "It's about thirty-five miles from there to Kelso and just a little further to Cima."

"Hotch wants us to pull over," Morgan said.

"Pull over," Reid looked confused, "why?"

"He didn't say, he just said to pull over. I don't know what he's got to say that he can't say over the earpiece, but we're pulling over," Morgan said as he steered the vehicle to the gravel at the shoulder of the road; the two vehicles behind him doing likewise. "I hope as far as we've gone that he's not suddenly pulling the plug on this."

"Why are we stopping?" JJ asked Rossi.

Rossi shrugged, "No idea." He opened the door and began to get out of the SUV. "I guess we're about to find out."

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"You sure everything's safe?" Mitch asked Alex Menendez.

"Of course everything is safe." Menendez responded sharply, annoyed by Mitch's paranoia. All he wanted to do was get his hands on that little girl. He was almost going crazy with the anticipation of it. "Why do you always ask me that? I did what I always do. My car is in the office parking lot. My cell is in my office. I'm carrying the disposable. I took a cab to the rental place, rented my car under my other identity. To the rest of the world, I'm still in my office. Nobody's figured it out up to now."

"Yeah, well we haven't had to take anyone out until now," Mitch sniped. "And the fact that I didn't get to finish off Reid before the nosy neighbor came out isn't good for us, ya know."

"I know that, but I went to the hospital and saw him with my own eyes. William Reid's a vegetable. There's no way he could tell anybody anything even if he did suspect it." Menendez's voice almost pleaded.

Mitch looked at the man, noticed the sweat on his upper lip. The guy was worse than a junkie, but that was a good thing because that gave him the control he needed over him. "Yeah, yeah, it won't be long and you can get your dick inside the little bitch. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," Menendez replied. He'd do anything to have sex with that little girl. Oh God, it was killing him to wait and then he'd get the DVD and he could go home and watch it and…

"You make sure you make her scream."

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"What's up Hotch?" Morgan asked as he and Reid exited their vehicle. The leader of the SWAT team was following suit.

"Reid," Hotch said, "this has more or less been your case from the beginning." He paused for a moment. "I want you to take the lead and organize the raid."

"Hotch, are you sure that's a good idea?" Morgan asked. "No offense kid, but Reid's never done anything like this before."

"We'll all be there. If his plan's totally off the mark, I'll say so; otherwise, he's in charge of the raid." JJ and Prentiss remained silent, watching Reid for his reaction. Rossi stood by the SUV, silently nodding his head and smirking. "Okay, let's get back on the road." Hotch and the others turned back toward their vehicles.

Morgan turned at the driver's door and looked back at Reid still standing alone on the roadside. "Coming kid?"

Reid turned to look at his teammate. "What just happened here?"


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

Disclaimer: See my profile

**Warning: Slight depiction of child molestation**

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"_What's your plan Reid?"_ Hotch's voice came through Reid's earpiece after they had passed Kelso and were on the Kelso Cima Road.

"Okay, we're now approaching from the southeast. If half of the team turns west at Cima Road and then turns onto a dirt road that leads to Morning Star Mine Road, we'll be approaching them from both the north and the south, making any kind of run for it more difficult," Reid explained.

"_What next?"_ Hotch asked.

"There was a population of 21 people in the 2000 census but that has since dwindled. I don't think more than a handful of people, if that, actually live here and I can't think they're not cognizant of what's going on. I think they'll be working out of the biggest building in town. They'd need space for their equipment and to house the kids. I'd say the old train depot."

"_Carry on,"_ the unit chief said.

"I'd like to use the infra red heat sensors to locate bodies in the building, to see if we've got the right place."

"_What kind of entry are you considering?"_

"I'm assuming there are front and back doors, one facing the street and one facing the tracks where the trains took on water. I figured we'd do a soft entry, possibly Morgan and Prentiss coming to the front door as lost hikers. While their attention is diverted at the front door, we could enter through the back. I doubt doors are locked out here and, if they are, by the time we kick the door in and distract them, Morgan and Prentiss will have their weapons out."

"_Why this way Reid?"_ Rossi asked

"Because there are likely kids there; if we do a hard entry, I don't want the unsubs to be able to use a child as a shield. Also a soft entry's less likely to scare them. They've been through enough already."

"_Okay Reid, we'll do it your way,"_ Hotch said. _"We'll come in with you from the south and SWAT can go around and come in from the north."_

"_Copy," _they heard from the SWAT commander.

"If possible, I'd like for you, Morgan Rossi, SWAT and me to neutralize the unsubs. I think once the raid starts the disruption will scare any kids that may be there. I think Prentiss and JJ should secure the children. They're less likely to be afraid of a woman I think."

"Yeah, I'll second that," Morgan added. "The Dinsdale kids were very leery of me."

"Mind you," Reid said, "if there's some kind of security set up that we have to breach before going in or the sensor shows it looks like the kids are being hurt, all bets are off and a soft entry is out of the question and we'll have to go hard. We just have to remember there may be kids there."

"_Alright then,"_ Hotch said, _"it looks like our plan is in place."_

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The BAU team was situated at the south end of the old town, if you could call it that, Emily thought. It looked completely deserted. There were a few very old buildings surrounded by sand and not much else. Little vegetation grew around here. It appeared completely desolate; the perfect place for this unspeakable enterprise to be going on. Their vehicles blocked any passage to the Kelso Cima road. They waited while the SWAT team got into position on the north as dusk descended. Reid and Morgan had taken position across the narrow street from the depot by the post office, which Reid informed them was still an official building and that Cima did have a zip code. They aimed the infra red heat sensor at the building, which did appear to have lights on, the only sign of life in this abandoned wasteland. The pair looked at the screen just as SWAT pulled into the north side of town and positioned their vehicle to prevent any egress.

"I'm amazed that we even got a warrant," JJ said. "I mean all we had to go on was some sand and Reid's gut."

"Yeah," Emily chuckled slightly. "It's a good thing Ralph Kennedy knew a federal judge with some 'indiscretions,'" she made quotation marks with her fingers.

"Well a federal judge likely has higher ambitions," Hotch added.

"And he wants what happened in Vegas to stay in Vegas," Rossi finished for him.

"We gotta get ready to move Hotch," Morgan said as he and Reid returned to the team along with the SWAT commander.

"The heat sensor picked up six bodies in one big room on the left of the front door," Reid said. "Five of them are big and one is pretty small. There are two other bodies, also small in the right side of the building, but they're not together in the same room."

"So we're dealing with five unsubs and three children," JJ clarified.

"There are two vehicles at the back," the SWAT commander added, "along with a generator and a satellite dish.

"There's also a lot of heat coming from another source," Morgan added, "likely the lighting. They may be making one of their little porn videos right now."

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Rachael was on the bed and Cameron was setting up the correct camera angle. "For Christ's sake, hurry up Cam," Mitch said.

Menendez seconded that motion. His hands were sweating in anticipation of getting them on that beautiful little body. He ran them down the sides of his pants.

Cameron looked through the viewer, "Okay step up there Alex, I want to make sure I don't get your face." Alex did as he was told and Cam said, "Okay, I think we're ready." He pointed at Menendez, "Action."

Alex reached out for Rachael who looked about to back away until a look at Mitch told her she'd be very sorry if she did. She felt the sweaty icky hands on her as the man slipped his hands under her top and ran them over her. She could feel them shake as they went over her body. He started to sigh and groan. Then one hand left her body and she saw him undo the zipper of his pants and they fell to the floor …

Mitch heard a knock on the front door. Nobody ever knocked on the door. Nobody was out here. "What the fuck," he said as he turned for the door, pulling his knife out of its sheath near his boot. He opened the door to see a big black guy and a pretty white woman standing there. She looked like she was holding a map in her hand.

"Hi," she said, "sorry to intrude but we seem to be lost and it's getting dark which doesn't make things any easier. We noticed the lights under the dark curtains. We've been hiking all day and we're beat and can't wait to get back to Kelso. Typical man," Emily pointed at Morgan, "never wants to ask for directions." She held up the map, "Can you show us where exactly we are and how to get back to Kelso so I can get a bath."

Mitch shoved the knife he'd been hiding stealthily behind his back and took the map from them, showing them where they were. "Just go down that road to the south and you'll get there no problem."

"Thanks," Emily said, "come on honey; she tugged on the hoodie Morgan wore over his Kevlar vest. "Let's go now."

On Emily's words the back door flew open. "What the f…" Mitch pulled out his knife as he turned toward the sound while Morgan and Emily drew their weapons.

"FBI," they both yelled. "Down on the floor, NOW!"

The rest of the team and SWAT had gone into the large room where filming was taking place. They found one man manning a camera, a blonde woman in the corner behind him sitting in the chair of a makeup table. Alex Menendez, his pants around his ankles, and in full arousal, stood by the bed where young Rachael lay quivering. Behind the bed and to the sides was a satin curtain in red beyond which there was another man who had been working a computer network, but now he stood with a gun in his hand.

"FBI, drop the weapon," Hotch instructed, "down on your knees." The man looked about to consider using his weapon when a SWAT officer joined Hotch with his big MP5 pointed at Frank Cummings who immediately dropped his weapon and fell to his knees.

JJ holstered her weapon and grabbed a sheet from the bed to cover the little girl. "Come on sweetheart," she said as she wrapped Rachael up in the bed linen. "You're safe now."

Out near the door, Mitch stood facing Morgan and Prentiss with the knife he'd from behind his back. "Not a good idea man," Morgan said but Mitch lunged forward with the knife. Emily fired and the bullet hit the man's wrist.

"Morgan," he heard Hotch yell from the other room.

"We're good Hotch," Morgan replied.

Mitch screamed in pain as the knife fell from his grasp and Morgan holstered his weapon and tackled him. "You want a fight man, huh? Is that what you want? You came to the right place. How about dealing with someone your own size for a change?" Morgan said through gritted teeth as he threw the man against the wall allowing his head to hit the wall more than once. "Cuffs," he said to Prentiss. "Emily handed him the cuffs and he brought Mitch's arms roughly behind him, squeezing on the injured wrist as he cuffed him causing the man to yell out again with pain.

"It's okay Prentiss, I got him."

"You sure? She asked.

"Yeah, we're good," Morgan said as the man's head hit the wall again and Prentiss noted beads of sweat on Morgan's bald head before she headed off in search of the children.

"You're killin' me man," Mitch yelled.

"I'm not killing you," Morgan stated. "If I was killing you, you'd be dead. I don't want you dead," he said as he slammed the man's head into the wall again. Mitch's wrist was bleeding profusely and it appeared his nose may be broken as blood oozed from there as well. His whole face was red and would soon be swollen. Morgan got his mouth close to Mitch's ear. "I want you very much alive and in a world of pain. I want you to stand trial and go away to a federal pen for the rest of your sick sorry life where your hurting will really begin. They don't like child molesters much in prison. This is just child's play. When you get to the federal penitentiary you'll be in the real Devil's Playground." He whipped Mitch around to one of the SWAT officers. "Get him out of my sight."

Two SWAT officers were cuffing Cameron while Rossi had Adrienne on the ground and was cuffing her. Reid looked at the man who had come to his father's hospital bed, his gun trained on him. "I guess you really got caught with your pants down huh, against the wall now," he said. Menendez looked down at his pants that were around his ankles. "Now," Reid yelled. Refusing to allow the man the dignity of pulling up his pants, he grabbed him with a force that he and none of those in the room knew he was capable of. Menendez found himself slammed against the wall. "What, were you up there to finish off my father because your first attempt failed?"

"No, no I swear, I never committed any violence." Menendez said.

"No violence," Reid's eyes grew to what seemed like twice their size. "What the hell do you think you were doing to that little girl?"

"No, I wasn't there to hurt your father. I just had to find out."

"Find out what?" Reid asked as he pushed the man tighter against the wall.

"Find out if he knew anything. He's been working with them and when he took this case we wondered if he knew."

"He's been working with whom? Reid asked

"Children, families affected by… by…"

"Child molesters," Reid finished for him.

Menendez nodded. "He's been doing it for a couple of years now, pro bono. A lot of lawyers send people to him. So when he took this case we thought…" Reid brought Menendez's hands to his back as the SWAT officer offered him cuffs and he handed the prisoner off to him.

"Menendez," Reid said as the two men reached the door, "Espero que queme en el inferno."


	23. Chapter Twentytwo

Disclaimer: See my profile

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"Good call Agent Reid," Rossi said as he, with a now resigned Adrienne, followed one of the SWAT officers who led Alex Menendez out to the vehicles, the man almost tripping on his fallen trousers although no one seemed in any hurry to relieve him of his embarrassment.

Reid looked around the room, at the satin curtains and fancy bed coverings that were designed to what… he thought, give the acts carried on here less depravity, give them some kind of credibility and respectability. The whole thing made him sick. How could he…? Morgan's voice from the doorway interrupted his thoughts.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm good." Reid replied as he turned for the door. Now it would be left to the CSIs to go through all this to retrieve the physical evidence that would put these people away for the rest of their lives. He wished it could be Catherine and her crew, but he knew that it would be someone different because this was California. He hoped they cared as much as the people he'd met in Las Vegas. "What about the kids?" he asked at last.

"JJ and Emily got them, another girl and a little boy. As soon as we're in cell range we'll get Garcia on finding out who they are, what their story is and where they can go from here." Morgan told him.

"Good," Reid looked around the room again. "Now you know why I never wanted to risk foster care," he told his friend as he exited the room.

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"You're quiet Reid; that's not like you." Morgan said as they were on the road back to Barstow. The prisoners were in the custody of the SWAT team and JJ and Emily had the kids in the other SUV with Hotch and Rossi. The children had told them their names and now Garcia was looking into Leslie Harris and Danny Erickson.

"I'm thinking." Reid replied.

"Well that's a given man. What are you thinking about? It looks like something heavy's weighing on you."

"What's wrong with me Morgan?"

Morgan turned to look at his friend, a man he considered a little brother. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"I've screwed up everything with the team. They're all pissed at me now, all because I couldn't just accept what happened."

"Listen, what happened is not an everyday occurrence and no one can fault you for taking some time to come to terms with it."

"I was thinking back there Morgan, when we were in that room. I was thinking that my dad had left me when I was ten. One time Emily said that she understood that that hurt me but I should remember that he'd given me ten good years before he left." He stopped for a moment and looked out the window only to see his own reflection in the darkness, which was not what he wanted at that moment. "But I couldn't accept that and move on and I harbored this intense hatred for my dad and then, when I started having dreams about Riley Jenkins, my father became this villain. I looked around that room back there and wondered how I ever could have thought that my dad could have done something like that. Just because he disappointed me, I made him into a villain."

"Reid, no one could blame you for that. You suffered a lot after your father left. Believe me; you don't know how many times, in my mind, I've wanted to plow the guy." Morgan said, his eyes not leaving the road.

"I did the same thing with Hotch, JJ and Emily. They only did what they thought was right, but because what they did hurt me, because none of them trusted me, I turned them into these villains that were out to get me."

"Hey," Morgan said, "stop right there. First of all, they didn't tell Rossi or me either, so it's not just you. Secondly, whatever gave you the idea that Hotch doesn't trust you? Look at where we are man! We're in the middle of the damn California desert after catching a bunch of child molesters and saving who knows how many kids from that torture. This whole thing was your idea. Hotch didn't go for any of this because he didn't trust you, just the opposite. You had nothing but a little pink sand, a connection between three people and a hunch. And Hotch came here on that tenuous thread and he trusted your gut instincts because he knows you Reid. He knows who you are and he trusts that, no matter what the evidence around him might say."

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The plane was quiet as they headed back to Las Vegas. Almost everyone was sleeping. Reid knew he needed to but he just couldn't seem to make it happen. They had been met in Barstow by a child service worker, Jolene Mason. She'd made sure the children were admitted to hospital for evaluation, and unfortunately, evidence collection. It made him sick to think that after these children had been failed by the DCFS, leaving them vulnerable to the clutches of the depraved and deviant minds that had gotten hold of them; the justice system would now step in and exact its own pound of flesh. Garcia had provided the worker with all the information she'd been able to dig up on the three kids. Hotch had been harsh with the woman, even though none of this was her fault specifically and she'd seemed to shrink in fear when he told her the FBI would be monitoring these kids from here on out and they had better receive outstanding care in their next home. Hotch's dark eyes had been as cold as he'd ever seen them.

The CSI team from Barstow was likely still working on the headquarters of this horrific enterprise in Cima. He'd noticed the knife that Mitch Lowery had dropped on the floor when Morgan and Prentiss had taken him down. He had no doubt it was what had ripped through his father's flesh and organs and he was sure they'd find his dad's blood on it. It would eventually make its way to a federal courtroom in Las Vegas where it would make the man pay for what had been done to his father. Reid was also sure the bullets in Frank Cumming's gun would match the one that had torn through Lou Anne McDaniels' head. There was nothing he could do about that now. It was all in other hands.

He glanced around the plane at his teammates. Morgan slept with his headphones on and, across from him, JJ was curled into a ball. Rossi was spread out on the bench seat while Prentiss sat across from Hotch, both asleep he noted by the slow, easy rise and fall of their chests which made him think of his father in the ICU and the machine that regulated his breathing. He should call and check on him. He opened his cell and noticed he had a message. "Dr. Reid, call the ICU in Summerlin immediately regarding your father."


	24. Chapter Twentythree

Disclaimer: See my profile

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"Has he woken again?" Reid asked the nurse as she let him into the ICU.

"No, he opened his eyes for a little while and seemed to respond but now he's gone back to sleep and he's not waking although he's responding to painful stimuli," Shannon told him. "We tried to call you but all we got was voice mail."

"Yeah, I was out of cell range, out of the state actually. So, is this an improvement, or is it just the calm before the storm?" He asked.

"Could be either one, it's hard to tell," the nurse admitted.

"Thank you." Reid took the chair beside his father's bed and watched the machines continue to hold William Reid's life in limbo. He was tired. He knew it wasn't just the lack of sleep. He'd lived with that before. It was the emotional toll of everything that had gone on from having to deal with his father to facing his turmoil with the team. He rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. The rhythmic hiss of the ventilator was hypnotic.

The voices in his head seemed real although he knew they weren't which he was thankful for. If the day ever came when he didn't know they weren't real, he'd be in trouble.

"_But thank you," Emily had said over the phone._

"_For what?"_

"_For being you," she'd said._

"_Aw thanks, I don't know how to be anyone else._

"_That's what I love about you."_

That's what I love about you. The words reverberated in his mind. She'd loved that he was him. She'd loved that there was no pretension like with other guys. She'd loved him for just being him. Did she still, he wondered?

"_Go help Hotch," he'd told Morgan as the CDC crew hosed him off_.

"_Hotch has plenty of people helping him."_

"_He needs you more than I do," he'd insisted._

"_Reid, I'm gonna see you off to the hospital."_

_I'm about to get naked so they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?"_

_He'd finally gotten his friend when Morgan had replied, "I'll catch up with you later. Take care of him please."_

And he had caught up with him later hadn't he. Morgan had been there with him, sitting vigil by his bedside and eating Jell-o when he'd woken. Morgan never let him down.

_It was dark and he'd just been through the worst ordeal of his life. He'd just killed a man. He saw the flashlights bouncing around in the distance as they searched the wooded area on the cemetery for him. Hotch reached him first. Hotch who he'd tried to send a message to while he'd seemingly chosen him to die._

"_Reid," Hotch said as he helped him to his feet._

"_I knew you'd understand," he'd told the man he looked up to more than any other as they embraced each other._

Hotch understood most things almost better than anyone. He'd understood him then. He hoped he would at least try to understand him now.

_He remembered when he'd first felt Henry kick when he was still inside JJ. He'd told her, at the time, it freaked him out._

"_There's something I wanted to ask you, but it can wait," JJ had said as she held the new life, that he'd felt kick only weeks before, in her arms._

"_What is it?" He remembered asking._

"_Will and I were talking and we want you to be Henry's godfather."_

_He'd been blown away by that. "I don't even… I don't know."_

"_You wanna hold him?" Before he knew what was happening, JJ had lifted the tiny baby into his arms. "It's okay, there you go," she'd said as he awkwardly held the baby, "Watch his head… there you go." She ran her finger under his teeny chin. "If anything happens to us, it's up to you and Garcia to see that this boy gets into Yale."_

He'd never dreamed that JJ would trust him with her child, but she did. Of all people, she and Will had trusted him. He'd promised himself he'd live up to that trust. She had trusted him then, could she trust him again? Could he trust her like he had back then?

_It had been a hard case for him. He'd related to the young teen who was so afraid of becoming a killer and who Gideon was sure, someday, would. He hadn't felt in the mood for cheering up but, Garcia knew better._

"_Come on, you and me, we're hittin' the town." Garcia tried to lift his spirits as she did everyone's._

"_No offense Garcia, I'm not really feeling like I'd make the best company right now."_

"_Oh no," she smacked him with her scarf, "up… up, do not make me hurt you."_

As if Garcia would hurt anyone, he told himself. She was the most joyous loving person he knew. He'd never dreamed he'd be anybody's 'sweetcheeks.' He wondered if she knew how much he secretly loved it. They hadn't gone out on the town that night. Life had interfered. But she had been there with him. She was always that voice on the phone, no farther away than his fingers could reach, when he needed it most. She could always make him smile. She was able to give you a warm hug when you were states apart. She saw the good in everything. Emily was alive and that's all that mattered to her. Why couldn't he feel that way.

_The last time he was here had been hard on him as well, dealing with a child killer and his memories of Riley Jenkins. He remembered waking up from the hypnosis that had brought back the image of his father burning what he now knew were his mother's bloody clothes._

_He'd been so shaken and frightened by what he'd remembered but when he'd awoken Rossi had been there right beside him assuring him repeatedly, "It's okay."_

Rossi, who had called him Agent Reid; no one ever called him that. It had made him feel good inside that he wasn't just there for the knowledge he could impart at a moment's notice, but that he was a good agent.

Rossi had been right. They'd kept his 'secret' at their own peril. After Georgia they'd circled the wagons around him even when he'd given them, especially Emily, enough reason not to. These people were his family, although none of them shared a drop of blood, they shared something almost deeper. He'd always tried to distance himself from pain and the people who caused it. Now, Hotch, JJ and Emily had made decisions and taken actions which had hurt him, not intentionally, although they had to know he'd be broken up by it, but that happened sometimes in families, and you got over it and you forgave because family was such a precious thing. That's why he was here he thought as he opened his eyes and looked over at his father. Despite all the hurt, in the end, they were family and you forgave your family.

And what of his real family? Menendez had said his father had been working to help abused children. Not that he trusted anything the man said but, at that point, there had been no reason for him to lie. Reid wondered if the accusation he'd made against his father concerning Riley Jenkins had sparked his dad into making the decision to help abused children. Wasn't it strange? The consequences of one incident of child molestation had torn his family apart. In his mind he saw his mother sitting here the other night holding his father's hand until her paranoid delusions had taken over. Could the consequences of another bring them back together?

He closed his eyes again. Could any of what his dad was doing now make up for the past? No, he decided, it couldn't. You couldn't get back time that's gone and continually concentrating on the past only cheated the future.

"_Spencer, I know you're awake. Daddy loves you, you know."_

Reid finally stood up and moved the chair closer to the bed. He reached out and touched one of William Reid's hands. "Dad, I still don't truly understand, and I don't think I ever will but… I forgive you."


	25. Chapter Twentyfour

Disclaimer: See my profile

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JJ stifled a yawn as she removed the pictures and map from the white board. "None of us have gotten much sleep the last couple of days, have we?" Hotch remarked as Catherine Willows and Nick Stokes entered the room.

"I hear you got them," Nick said as Hotch continued to box up the files.

"Yes we did," Hotch replied, "a neat and tidy little kiddy porn enterprise nestled in a quiet little ghost town in the California desert."

"You can never underestimate the creativity and stealth of the criminal mind," JJ added.

"Ain't that the truth," Catherine agreed. "So, how did they figure out the link between William Reid and Lou Anne McDaniels?"

"The family court judge," Hotch told them. "We'd thought it might be Rachael's DCFS worker but Garcia found that she was indeed sick. She's in chemotherapy for cancer and she hadn't told anyone at work and no one knew she was at the clinic in Henderson. Menendez and the others gave up the judge on interrogation."

"A lawyer spilling his guts," Nick said. "That's a new one."

"Well," JJ said with a smirk. "You can never underestimate the creativity and stealth of Agent Rossi in the interrogation room. He, Prentiss and Morgan are out with Captain Brass, Detective Vartann and some officers rounding him and the Dinsdale's up."

"And Spencer?" Nick asked.

"He's at the hospital. He got a message last night that there'd been a change in his father's condition," Hotch informed them.

"Good change or bad?" Nick asked.

"We don't know," JJ replied.

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Reid thought he felt William Reid's fingers weakly squeeze his. "Dad," he said. "Dad, can you hear me?" He felt his fingers squeezed again. He watched his father's face as his eyelids fluttered and his eyes opened and then shut just as quickly. He could see his father fighting to try to keep them open as his heart rate sped up on the monitor. "It's okay dad," Reid assured him. "It'll come when it comes, you don't have to fight so hard." He felt his hand being squeezed again and he called for Shannon who came quickly.

Reid backed away as Shannon went about checking his father. The very petite middle aged redhead flashed a bright smile as her experienced green eyes took in his dad's situation. "Mr. Reid," she said pleasantly but rather sharply. Reid could see his dad trying to open his eyes. "There you are," she said brightly. "I've been waiting to see if your eyes were as beautiful as your son's." With each blink, it seemed William was able to hold his eyes open a few seconds longer. "Don't worry about it Mr. Reid. It'll come. You've been through quite the experience. Don't try to get going too fast. If you understand me, squeeze my hand." She felt slight pressure on her fingers as she placed them in her patient's. "We'll have you doing better than that in no time." She remarked with a giggle as she made notations on the clipboard at the end of his bed. "It's just like waking up from a very deep sleep; sometimes it takes you a while to get oriented."

Reid liked Shannon's jovial, firm but kind way with his father as he watched the man's eyes begin to stay open a little longer after each blink. He watched him try to obey Shannon's commands to follow her finger, to look up and down when she told him and squeeze both her hands with his. Eventually she waved him over. "Do you know this guy?" She asked.

Now it was her turn to watch as the older man's eyes met the younger's. She switched her glances back and forth between the two. She could see William wanted to talk but found it impossible with the tube down his throat so he nodded his head slightly. "You'll be able to talk again once we get that tube out. You need it for right now to inflate your lung which was injured in your…," she paused for a moment and looked at Reid…, "incident." She turned from the bed. "I'll notify Dr. Sutton of the change." She patted Reid on the shoulder as she walked by. "Let me know if you need anything."

Reid sat in the chair beside his father once again. "You okay dad?" he asked. That was a stupid question genius he told himself. The man's lying in an ICU bed hooked up to a ventilator and you ask if he's okay. Surprisingly, William nodded. "Do you remember what happened?"

William's eyes closed. Reid waited for them to reopen but they didn't. Since his father had drifted off again, he rested his head on the back of the chair. Perhaps he could catch a few winks. Suddenly, his hand that was resting on the bed was squeezed in a death grip, much stronger than previously. He looked over at his father to see his eyes now open, wide, and filled with terror.

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"They're all in custody," Prentiss said as the three profilers entered the conference room to find Hotch and JJ had it just about cleaned up.

"That judge was just so high and mighty until he saw we had a warrant for his computers. He knew it was over then," Morgan told them.

"If we thought Judge Crosley was reluctant to sign the warrant for Cima, he was even more reluctant to sign one for a fellow judge, but considering what our raid on Cima turned up and the judge's position in family court, he did it," Emily added.

"At least the kids are safe," Rossi said. "I gave them Hotch's line about how we'll be monitoring their progress and they better take good care of them. Somehow I didn't get the scowl down though."

"Or the stare," Prentiss added. "I see you two have been hard at work."

They all chuckled including Hotch. "Yeah, I think we're just about ready." JJ said. "Garcia's sending the viewers identities to Katie Cole and they're going to see about getting them in custody and hopefully talking. She also sent Katie Reid's algorithm. She thought maybe it could help with other decryptions."

"Has anyone heard from Reid?" Morgan asked. Everyone shook their heads and they glanced around at one another wondering what that might mean.

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Reid watched as his dad closed his eyes again. He could see tears sneaking beneath the closed lids. Why had he asked that damn question? Obviously he remembered what happened and it had all come back to him in a flash. Reid stood up and leaned over his father. "It's okay dad, you're safe. We caught him. You're in no danger now." William tried to raise his hands, only to find them restrained. More fear, if that was possible, filled his eyes. "It's okay dad," Reid said again. "The nurses said the first reaction of a patient is to pull the tube in your mouth out and they don't want you to do that, so they just restrained your hands so you can't do that."

William Reid lifted his torso from the mattress and then threw himself back against it again. He continued to do this his hands balled in fists as the heart and ventilator monitors began to squeal loudly. Shannon, another nurse and an orderly were there with lightning speed. "I suggest you go wait in the family room while we take care of this," she told him.

"I didn't mean…" Reid said.

"I know you didn't. This isn't uncommon. It's hard for you to watch but we see it all the time. It's not your fault," the nurse reassured him. "Go to the family room for few minutes okay."

Reid nodded and did as he was instructed. Tears burned his eyes. He had to hold them in, he told himself. He had to be strong. He entered the family room to find five others sitting there. They rose as he entered the room. "What are you doing here?"

JJ noticed his eyes almost brimming over and she stepped forward embracing him like she had the night she'd told him Emily had died. "Where else would we be?"


	26. Chapter Twentyfive

Disclaimer: See my profile

A/N: Clearing Storms is a painting by artist Thomas Kinkade

Hi everybody, this is the last chapter except for an epilogue. Thanks so much to everyone who supported this story and reviewed. As always, special thanks to my sounding board, mablereid.

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"You okay Reid?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah…" He replied, extricating himself from JJ. "I'm okay."

"Your dad's not…?" Morgan said.

"No," Reid sat on a love seat just to the left of the door. "He's okay. He came to finally and … and I asked him if he remembered what happened and then his eyes filled with terror and he started thrashing about, setting all the alarms and everything off. They… they just kicked me out."

Emily sat beside him and gingerly reached for his hand, grateful when he didn't resist. "I'm sure it's going to be okay."

"I think you could use some coffee," Rossi said, "we all could. Come with me Morgan." Morgan nodded and followed him to the door.

"What are you guys even doing here? Shouldn't you be on your way back to DC?"

"I called Strauss," Rossi said from the doorway. "I told her we'd just finished two nasty cases with kids and we were not on this weekend, period."

Reid rubbed his hand across his face. His head was beginning to pound. "Could you turn that light off please," he indicated the fluorescent light on the ceiling. Hotch flipped the wall switch leaving the room much dimmer with only the light from two small lamps on the end tables for illumination. "Thanks."

JJ sat on the steel blue faux suede couch that was placed at a right angle to the matching love seat Reid and Emily sat in. She clasped her hands together on her lap. "It sounds like it's an improvement. That's something."

"Yeah, if I can only keep my mouth shut. What was I thinking; that he was a victim in one of our cases and I was there to do a cognitive interview or something? Every time I open my mouth lately, I say the wrong thing." His words were followed by some moments of silence. He looked up at the picture that hung on the coppery walls behind the couch. Frothy white waves lapped against a rocky shoreline, while the golden glow of the sun that turned the fading clouds to a coppery orange, served as a backdrop to a lovely red roofed house of a whitish brick that resembled alabaster. Inviting light effused from within and he could only assume its occupants had taken shelter and now that the sun had returned would be out to enjoy the land and the sea. It was entitled Clearing Storms. He thought this was a perfect place for it. Families were sent here to wait until their loved one's medical storm cleared.

His team had faced a storm in Ian Doyle, hadn't they? They'd taken shelter, being protected, not by walls, but by lies. And, like any storm, it had finally passed. Ian Doyle was dead and, as storm survivors do, the team had come out from beneath the cloak of deception that had protected them from the storm's wrath. In the aftermath survivors surveyed the damage and decided what could be fixed and what was irreparably broken. That's what each of them was deciding now, Reid realized. When their decisions were made, they would start rebuilding and what they built would be stronger and more able to withstand the next storm. "I'm sorry," he said at last.

"Spence, you don't need to…"

"Yes, I do, JJ." He stopped her with a raise of his hand. "Do you think I want all this animosity, I don't? I have to get this out and what happens after that… happens." He glanced down at his hands and noticed the one that still held his. "You've been picking your nails again."

"Nasty habit," Emily replied.

"You only do that when you're stressed. I hope it's not because of me. I hope I'm not the one making your life more stressful."

"I've made your life more stressful recently so maybe I deserve it." Emily said.

"No… no, you don't deserve it," Reid replied. "This is all so difficult. I've realized that I tend to vilify those who hurt me and you three, like my father, were no exception." He looked up at his unit chief. "Hotch I respect you more than any man. I realize now that you felt you couldn't tell me because with my… problem, you considered me a liability."

"Reid, that's not true," Hotch interjected. "I never considered you a liability, not then, not now, not ever. The only reason JJ and I never told anyone was totally for their own protection and Emily's. It's not that I thought you'd give Prentiss up if Doyle caught you and tried to get answers through drugs. I'm quite sure you wouldn't. It's the torture you would have been put through in the endeavor that I couldn't fathom. We couldn't chance that one wrong look; one misspoken word might have a hand in sending you to the depths of hell."

Emily squeezed his hand, "I more than anyone knew what Ian Doyle was capable of and I couldn't risk him taking you to a place where we may never have gotten you back."

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"Rossi, what are we doing sitting here eating doughnuts," Morgan said as he considered the sugar covered beauty in front of him.

Rossi picked up his nut covered treat. "Those three upstairs need to talk."

"Do you think they will?" Morgan bit into his doughnut.

"Um hmm," Rossi said as he chewed. "It's like two sets of warring gangsters and Reid was the innocent bystander that got caught in the middle, collateral damage."

"We've all been affected by what happened Rossi, not just Reid."

"I know that but we're older and our different experiences have made us more capable of handling it I think."

"Do you think Reid'll come out of it okay?"

"I think he'll find a way to make sense of it."

xxxxxxxxxxx

"I forgave my dad," Reid blurted out suddenly.

"That's great Reid," Hotch said feeling the first twinges of hope. "How did you come to that decision?"

"I was thinking about all of you and that Emily's fear for us was because Doyle was going after families and, for her, that was us. I was thinking about some of the times we've had together. And I realized that although family members hurt each other from time to time, in the end, they're still family and families forgive. I just jumped up and forgave him."

"You all forgave me after the Dilaudid." He turned so he faced Emily, then shifted his glance to include Hotch and JJ, "And I want to forgive you," he said. "Logically, of course, I understand the reasoning behind why you did what you did. I can even relate it to what I felt I had to do with my mother. She felt betrayed by me in the beginning, and still does now and then, and I still feel the guilt I felt that day although I know what I did was right. I've been told I would have done the exact same thing had the decision been mine. I don't know if that's true. I don't know if I could have watched one of you suffer the way I did and not do what I knew would help. I almost want to think I couldn't, that I couldn't be that cold and callous."

He looked up at his unit chief. "Hotch you know what this feels like. You lost Haley to an unsub. We all saw the pain you went through after that and I can't imagine you wanting to unleash that on people you supposedly care about. How would you feel if, after all you and Jack had gone through, Haley suddenly popped up and said, "Surprise?" I know you'd be grateful she was still alive. I'm grateful that Emily's alive too, believe me. But I think you couldn't help but feel some anger at whoever had played this sick joke on you, not to mention parading us all through that grief assessment. What was that, to evaluate how well your plan was working?" He didn't wait for Hotch to respond before going on.

"Emily's so called death changed me. I was consumed with an anger I'd never felt before. I started going to the firing range all the time. I had to get rid of all that anger and the range seemed like a good place." He gave a disdainful laugh, "I think I finally got it right Hotch, front sight, trigger press, follow through. I must have killed Ian Doyle a thousand times and I've got the paper targets to prove it. Ian Doyle seemed like a fitting target; he'd taken Emily's life. Only he hadn't. And now it seems I've directed all this anger for over seven months at the wrong target. It wasn't Ian Doyle that had taken Emily from us, it was you." He looked at Hotch and JJ. "I know you had your reasons for the pretense that Emily was dead, and I understand the legitimacy of them, I really do, but it doesn't make me feel any less like I've been played for a fool by people I trusted."

"I know you went out on a limb and trusted me with this case Hotch, bringing the team out here and having me organize the raid. I really appreciate the vote of confidence. I'm sorry I've been so difficult and I'll try to be less of an ass. I said I want to forgive you and I do. And I'm sure I will, in time. When I found out that Emily was alive and I'd been lied to all this time, it hit me to my core. I've never really felt I belonged anywhere in my life until I came to the BAU and now I feel like a fool for believing that might actually be true. Like I always do when something like this happens, I retreat into myself. I don't want anyone else to be able to get at me so I avoid interacting with people as much as I can. I decided I was best on my own, not letting anyone in. If I couldn't trust the people I was closest to then I couldn't trust anyone. No one could hurt me then. So, for right now, my heart is closed. I hope it won't be for long."

Emily squeezed his hand, "We'll take it one day at a time and we'll be here when you're ready."

"Can anyone join this party?" Rossi asked. He and Morgan each held a tray containing three cups of coffee.

"Here kid, this should sweeten you up," Morgan handed him a cup from his tray as he and Rossi distributed the coffee amongst the team.

"Hi there," Shannon interrupted from the doorway. "You can come back in and see your dad now if you'd like Dr. Reid."

"Is he okay?" Reid asked.

"He's fine. Patients in his position when they find they can't talk and their hands are tied down get frustrated, that's all. It happens all the time. We told him that he can be unrestrained if someone's with him and we gave him some paper and a pen so he can write. He won't be quite so frustrated that way."

"Okay, I guess I'll see you guys later." He turned his head back when he was in the doorway and saw Emily give him a nail bitten thumbs up and behind her the painting on the wall. He left his friends and headed for the ICU once again as a thought that circled around in his head made him grin… clearing storms.


	27. Epilogue

Disclaimer: See my profile.

A/N: This is it folks, thanks again for supporting this stories and giving me your feedback through adding it to your favorites, your alerts and passing on your reviews. It was greatly appreciated.

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_Epilogue_

"Do I look alright?" William's raspy voice asked his son as he ran his fingers through his hair and moved gingerly to sit up straighter in his bed. His lungs had healed enough that they were able to remove the endotracheal tube and he could finally talk. Something he needed right now. He'd been moved from the ICU yesterday to a regular room.

"You look great dad." Reid replied as he sat on the window ledge in his father's private room. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. "Alex Menendez told me what you've been doing… helping abused children navigate the legal system, pro bono. It's a good thing you're doing."

William lowered his head and said nothing for a few moments. "You could have been Riley Jenkins."

Reid crossed his arms in front of him. "Mom told me."

"When she started on this business about moving because you were in danger; well, with her condition, you know what I thought."

"Paranoid delusions," Reid replied.

"Right, and I thought they would go away, they usually did or changed to something else, but she kept up about this. So, sometimes it was better to give in to her than to argue all the time. I couldn't take that and she did calm down once we moved. I never saw it back then. With your mother, sometimes it was hard to know what was real and what wasn't. Then after the murder I knew she'd been right and you know what happened. I let you down so terribly and I saw that when you came back here and thought that I could have killed Riley. I didn't know how to make it right with you so I thought the least I could do was to try and make it right for some other kids."

Reid got up from the sill and sat in the chair near his father's bed. "My… friend Emily once told me that she got that I was angry about your leaving but I should remember that you gave me ten good years before you left. Those are the important years in a child's life, the years that make him the person he is. I've tried really hard to push all that out of my mind and maybe I shouldn't. Mom's got a photo album. We were looking at it one day," he chuckled, "we did have some great times."

William swiped his hand across his eyes. "Maybe we could…"

Reid glanced at the doorway. "Here they are."

They turned out to be a short woman Reid thought to be his own age, brunette with streaks of blonde in her hair, holding the hand of a little black girl with pigtails he knew to be Rachael McDaniels. She wore pale blue denim jeans with a matching tee shirt and her pigtails were held with holders that looked like blue pom poms that shook when she moved her head. It somehow made him think of Garcia. Her feet were covered in white sneakers. She looked like an ordinary little girl.

Rachael had been lucky for once in her young life, Reid thought. On her return to Las Vegas, because of the news coverage the case garnered, there had been quite a few offers to take the child. She was eventually given to the custody of Reverend Dr. Nathan Maxwell. He was a Lutheran minister as well as a professor of religious studies at UNLV. His wife, Althea, was a child psychologist and that was considered likely to be of great help to Rachael. The couple had three children of their own; a girl fourteen and two boys, twelve and nine. The family had been thoroughly vetted by DCFS but, unbeknownst to them, also by Garcia. Rachael had just started on therapy and, by all accounts, was adjusting well to the Maxwell household in the short time she'd been there.

Reid stood. "Hi," the woman said as they entered the room. She held out her hand, "I'm Kayla Carmen and this is Rachael."

Reid shook hands with the woman. "Spencer Reid and this is my father William."

Kayla shook William's hand. "I must say I was surprised when you asked to speak to Rachael," she told him.

The little girl still held on tightly to the DCFS worker's hand. At last she pointed to Reid. "You were there when they made Mitch and the others go away," she said.

"Yes, I was there," Reid replied.

Rachael let go of Kayla's hand and threw her arms around Reid's waist burying her head in his abdomen, "Thank you."

Reid was unsure whether to touch the child or not. Would a man's touch bring back the memories of what had been done to her? He eventually allowed himself to tap her gently on the shoulder. "I'm glad I could be there," he replied, unable to hide the quiver in his voice.

"This Mr. Reid wanted to talk to you honey," Kayla said, turning the child toward William.

William was about to pat the bed for her to sit when he thought better of it. "Is it okay if she sits on the bed?" He asked Kayla. Before the worker could reply, Rachael sat of her own accord. "Hi Rachael, I just wanted to talk to you about your mommy. I didn't know your mommy very long. I only met her on the day she passed away but I know that the thing she wanted more than anything in the world was to be with you and she was working hard to make that happen. I was going to help her. Your mommy loved you very much and I just wanted you to know that. He glanced up at his son before carrying on. "Sometimes a mommy … or daddy will do something wrong that keeps them away from their children. It doesn't mean they ever stop loving them. Your mommy never stopped loving you."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, what, trying to sneak off without saying good bye," a voice said behind Reid as he waited for his flight to be called.

"Nick, I didn't expect to see you here," Reid said.

"I just wanted to say good bye, thanks for everything you did on the case and that I'm glad everything worked out with your dad."

"Thanks," Reid held out his hand. "Thanks for caring and for, everything."

"No problem," the CSI shook his hand. "Do you think you'll manage to work things out with your team?"

"Yeah, sort of, it's going to take some time." Reid said. "But I think we'll be alright. Thanks… thanks for the drink the other night and for sharing with me about the time you felt betrayed by Catherine and Jim. It helps to know somebody else felt this way and got past it."

"Anytime man," Nick handed Reid a card. "Next time you're here to see your family," Reid looked at the name and number. "Don't forget about your friends."

"I won't," Reid said after staring at the card for a moment, "Thanks."

"Catherine says you Vegas kids have got to stick together and you owe us a big dinner next time you're here by the way."

"A big dinner?" Reid's eyebrows pulled together and his forehead creased.

Nick chuckled. "Wipe that confused and innocent look off your face. You know that since you used that sand evidence to get a warrant and help you solve the case and rescue those kids, there'll be no living with Hodges."

"Sorry about that," Reid said although he didn't appear to look sorry at all.

"Yeah, sure you are," Nick chuckled again

The speakers announced the flight to DC. "That's my flight. I have to go. Give my regards to everyone."

"Will do," Nick said as they shook hands again. "You have a safe flight." Reid nodded and headed through the doors that would connect him to his flight.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Reid's cell rang as he headed down the ramp toward his flight. "Hi Katie," he responded to the call display.

"_Dr. Reid, how are things with your dad?"_

"He's much better thanks. In fact I'm just about to board my flight home."

"_I won't keep you then. I just wanted to update you. Thanks to you we've made thirty-six arrests from viewers on the site before it was closed down. We had them in as fast as the judges could sign warrants." _ He heard her sigh.

"That's great Katie, you okay?"

"_Yeah, you feel elated by the fact that you've managed to get some of these sick minds behind bars, but then you realize again, it's just the tip of the iceberg."_

"Well we got this site closed down anyway." Reid tried to be positive.

"_And another will pop up tomorrow, but yes,"_ she agreed with some degree of enthusiasm. "_We should pat ourselves on the back, get some rest and come out fighting. _

"You ever consider leaving?" Reid asked.

"_No, you?"_

"I… can't," Reid admitted finally.

"_Yeah, it's in us isn't it?"_ The speaker once again called his flight. _"You go Dr. Reid. Someday we'll all have a drink and not talk about this stuff."_

"Ya think?"

"_Who am I kidding, huh? Have a good flight."_

"Bye Katie."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Reid looked at the lights in the darkness as the plane made its slow descent into DC. The Washington Monument and the Capitol Building were definitely not the neon world he'd just left but they were no less striking and beautiful.

He pulled his bag from the carousel and headed for the exit. There were new challenges here now with his team, both professionally and personally, and it would take some time. That was okay. He'd never been one to back down from a challenge. Once outside he sniffed the cool night air and looked into the sky. The stars seemed to twinkle a greeting, reminding him, once again, that the clouds were gone; this storm was over. Now was the time to rebuild, making something strong and sturdy by meshing the best and most cherished parts of the old with the freshness of the new. As his feet began their walk along the pavement he relished in the fact that he loved coming home.

_Home is not where you live but where they understand you._

_Christian Morganstern_.

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THE END


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